Blog Archives

Spring Sky:Rainbows, Clouds and Ospreys

2/27/2024

1 Comment

Cloud picture taken by Toaster28

.

Rainbow colorful,
Can be seen but
Never touched
Ephemeral non essence.

Rainbow February 2024 East Bay Hills

Clouds:

White puffy cloud
Drifts lazily across
Spring blue sky.
But when it descends,
It becomes gray, damp
Cold fog.

Walking the dog,
Surrounded by mist,
Today's world
Blotted out.
Just me, the dog
And the fog.

Mockingbird sings an early tune.
Oxalis is in full yellow bloom
Punctuated by green  leaves
Of iris that will pop out soon.
Sun is out, wind is fair,
Spring is in the air.

January 30, 2022. cap by craigor from webcam from sfbayospreys;org

Spring Sky

Look up! Look there!
Spring is in the air,
Spring is in the sky.
See the butterfly
Land on the anise
Its eggs to lay,
Then fly away.
Watch the clouds float
In from the West,
Fluffy, white and gray,
See the osprey on the nest
watch and wait
for its mate.
Sun, butterfly, clouds, osprey,
Rain and sun today,
Will bring a rainbow
our way.

Down by the Bay
Where the Westwinds blow
Down  to the nest
I must go.
For if I do
Perhaps I'll see
Two ospreys,
Richie and Rosie.
Down by the Bay.

And if I stay
Down by the Bay,
Perhaps I'll  see
An osprey baby.
A little chick
in the nest
A little chick
Taking a rest.
Down by the Bay,

So come with me
Down to the Bay
Before the sun
Has set today
For if you do,
You will too
See the ospreys
Fish and play
Down by the Bay.

   lyrics by midi Feb. 2024
melody from Down By the Bay, traditional tune
sung by Raffi

,

Just as surely as
The wind blows
Down by the Bay,

The ospreys will return,
Not necessarily the two
We know and love,
But other ospreys,
Younger offspring,

The butterflies will lay
Eggs on the anise,
Anise that was taken out
To build fancy houses,
But still comes up
through the cracks.

Pelicans will crowd
The sand spit
For the herring run,
Co-existing with the
Fishing boats.

The wind will keep blowing,
The sun will keep shining.
There will be colorful
Rainbows and sunsets

Down by the Bay.

Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,
I heard an osprey on the nest, singing to his mate.
Oh, Rosie, where are you, are you on your way,
Won't you please come back to me today?

Then Richie took off, to his other nest he flew,
Spent the night there, with his lover fair.
Maybe I'll stay right here, next to you, my dear,
For my mate Rosie is nowhere near.

Early the next evening, just as the sun was setting,
An osprey flew to the nest, looking for her mate.
She chirped Richie, my mate, Richie where are you?
Won't you return to this nest and to me be true?

So Richie flew back to the Whirley crane nest,
To find his loyal mate and to her be true.
She soon lay three eggs, just as pretty as could be,
And soon they were raising a family.

lyrics by midi
tune is an old English folk tune: Early One Morning

And just for fun...

., Prime Time

            71 is prime
            So this year is my time.
            I can swim in the Bay,
            Or ride the ocean wave.
            Climb a steep, rocky hill,
            Do whatever I will.

            Next year,  seventy-two,
             I will be old anew.
            Hobble around in pain,
            Not go out in the rain.
            Losing too many hairs,
            Afraid to go down stairs.

            Then comes seventy-three.
            Once more I will be free!
            Undivided by fact-
            -Ors, no longer wracked.
            Only myself and one.
            Go out to have some fun.

            Multiple years to wait
            4, 5, 6, 7, 8
            Factors of 2 and 5,
            3, 7...  Sakes alive!
            Then even 11-
            I'll be nearing Heaven!

But then will come a year,
            One that will be so dear,
            One that is just so fine.
             Number 79.
            No unlucky 13
            Will anywhere be seen.

Then in 4 years, just see
             Comes  birthday 83
             And  I will be so free.
            No more factors for me,
            No pesky twos, fives,  threes,
            I can do whatever I please!

            Now, If only I can wait for that time
            When I will once more be in my prime.

Oh woe is me!  my birthday's near
            And there goes yet  another year.
            When I was young, I liked to age,
            Looked forward to being old and sage.
            Now that I've finally gotten here,
            I  find that it is not so dear.
            I'd rather be young and free
            Of  responsibility.

            Still,  when young, I had to do
            What others told me to.
            I had to clock in and out
            Had no time to gad about.
            Now I can lie in bed all day,
            Listen to music or just play.
            No one there to scold or shoo,
            Tell me what I cannot do.

            So I think I'll stay right here,
            Turn the age that I am near,
            Enjoy its quirks and its  perks,
            Be glad that my mind still works.
            Go out in the garden all day
            To weed, and plant and clip away
            Come in to take a well-earned rest,
            And  watch the sun set in the west.

1 Comment

Early Spring: As The Earth Turns

2/5/2024

3 Comments

Albatross chick in New Zealand

Image from NASA

Rosie flying in. Feb. 23, 2021, cap by lurker. From Golden Gate Bird Alliance webcam.

On days when life demands too much of you,
Responsibilities and worries too,
So much to bear, you don’t know where to turn,
And peace and solace are for what you yearn,

Look to the sky, to clouds, and higher still,
To watch the birds that glide and soar at will,
That turn and dive in the gentle Spring breeze
Then stop to rest atop the tallest trees.

And watch them as they sit so high and free,
Content to sing their song and just to be,
They follow the wind wherever it blows,
Are ever heedless of our earthly woes.

Then join them if only in mind, alone,
To visit distant lands, never yet known,
And then glide gently back to Earth and land,
Ready to tackle all that waits at hand.

No sooner has the last kiwi been picked.
The Christmas Amaryllis started to fade,
While on the paved streets drums the winter rains
Rushing into the storm drains,

Than I awaken to lightening sky
And  the narcissi pop up their white heads,
Lemons ripen yellow
Green mandarins turn orange,
And I take off my jacket while gardening
Under the warming sun.

Mockingbird sings an early tune
Oxalis is in full yellow bloom
Punctuated by green  leaves
Iris blossoms will pop out soon.

Spring is in the air.

The Last Kiwi

Today I ate the last kiwi
Off the vine.
It sat sliced on the white
Plate
So pretty.
But I ate it
Anyway.
And
it
was
Delicious.

Whirley Crane osprey nest cap from the GGBA cam.

Once upon a time, in the distant future...

there was a planet. It was not particularly large or prominent but it was a pretty planet, blue and green. For there was life on this planet: blue oceans teeming with fish and shellfish and many other life forms, as well as plants of all colors. There were grassy plains and high mountains covered with white snow. Even the dry deserts boasted colorful sand, creatures, large and small,  cacti and small leaved bushes, And in most parts, there lived humans, who travelled far and wide and explored to the ends of their Earth.
But over time, the climate grew hotter and drier. Animals began to disappear. This had happened before when the large dinosaurs had died off but now the humans were involved, for better or for worse. For the humans tinkered with the environment, built cities, created new materials. And these changes transformed the Earth itself. Animal species died from lack of space, water or food. There was less water to go around.
Soon the changes began to affect the humans themselves. While they were intelligent and ingenious, there was a limit to their understanding and they too began to suffer disease, lack of water and finally lack of food. After a massive die off over hundreds of years, only a few humans were left in pocketed areas.
In one such area, that the most recent humans had called California, there lived small tribes in the wilderness. There was still enough food from the sturdy oaks to keep them nourished and the rain still brought welcome water to the streams and the lakes, so that these humans lived quite comfortably. Gone was all the technology their forebears had created, but this mattered not. The humans did not miss it because they had not known it. Occasionally someone would come across a small rectangular object with a glass front and would wonder what manner of object this was. It did not seem to serve any purpose but fit in the palm of a hand as though it had been a hand tool. But a tool for what?
In one area, there was a Bay surrounded by hills. There was a space between two groups of hills and over this space was a bridge that had survived earthquakes and bombs.
One day a woman came from the Eastern hills, searching for salt and shells to use as scoops. She walked down to the edge of the Bay, where the eelgrass grew abundant and fish still darted in and out of the grass. This water had been polluted and many of the animals and plants had died off, but the tide continuously brought ocean water in and took it out again and so the sea life had been restored. As the woman walked along the shore, she became aware of another human, a man, standing atop a little hill above her. He saw her and started down the hill.
The woman kept walking. She had work to do and needed to get it done before dark. Then she must find a place to eat and sleep before returning to her home the next day.
She stopped when her footsteps met the water, at the old crane. It was used by humans once, and had stood there ever since, a rusting old piece of metal. Now it stood in water, as the level had risen over time. And there was an osprey nest high up on the crane. There were no more factories or ships or any other humans, but the birds still came to raise a family there. The wars and famine had not reached them. They could fly.
The man on the hill was now by her side. He did not speak. Indeed, humans spoke only when necessary now. But his eyes were kind. He stood next to the woman, looking out over the Bay.
The mountain the old ones had called Tamalpais, nobody really knew why, lay against the sky, still, in the shape of a woman lying down. There had been a legend, the woman had heard, but she knew it not. The mountain had been there when humans were abundant, had been there even before, when there had been a few original human inhabitants, before the hordes came.
And even before that perhaps, before there were any humans on this land.
The mountain would remain, until it was covered by the Ocean. The crane still stood. And across the Bay, the woman could see the old bridge crossing the strait that led to the ocean. It would be inundated one day, but for now it stood, a reminder of the human industrial life of the past.
And so too, the crane.
The woman and man stood at the water's edge, a few feet before the crane. The rain stopped and a rainbow appeared to the South. The man pointed at the rainbow and the woman nodded. Then she pointed. Far off, they saw a large bird flying in. It flew steadily until it  reached the crane. Then it landed upon the nest high up on the crane. It was a female osprey.  She  sat and looked around. Then she  called with a high pitched two-tone whistle. Then another. And from the Bay, beyond the breakwater, came another osprey. It flew steadily toward the nest, while the other called. Then it landed and the two birds greeted one another.
The woman turned to the man and smiled.
"The ospreys have returned," she said. "As always."
He nodded. "Yes."
They paid silent homage to these birds that had survived the wars, the floods, the famine and  all the destruction caused by humans, by flying South every winter to return in the Spring.
Then the two humans gave thanks to their Earth goddess and, as the sun began to set, turned for their long trek back to the hills where they dwelled.

3 Comments