Tag Archives: Birds

HOMELESS IN SPRING

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Homeless in Spring

The cardinal’s feathers contrasted
sharply with the hedge bush.
He flitted noisily nearby
until the buzzing hushed.

In disarray, the bush fell
to the daisy-dotted ground.
A hand reached to gather the limbs,
then stopped at a soft, cheeping sound.

A nest of twigs and twine–
home of featherless bird babies–
once secure in the fork of the limbs,
now lay scattered in the daisies.

The cheep–cheep of the birdies
could no longer be denied.
The big man picked them up,
and with no one looking, cried.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

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“Thy fate is the common fate of all, into each life some rain must fall . . .” Quoting from “The Rainy Day” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882)

 

 

Weather Warning

 

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Weather Warning

A redbird came to eat today,
flew by the tray
of fruit and grain
as drops of rain
began to plop and plop and plop.
When each big drop
became a splash,
I heard a crash
and looked to find the bird of red
with tufted head,
escaping claws
of cat’s wet paws.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

black-cat

Banner Mountain Girl # 69

From my journal: “It is raining very hard. The sky is dark and heavy with clouds full of water. It is a day in which I am usually lonely, but today my heart is filled with joy that is lasting over into this dark and rainy day.”

I am a writer and I must write. Often, I wonder what is new to write? Even if, like Hemingway, I should begin with one true sentence, how would I complete a work that I haven’t even thought about? It’s amazing how sometimes my words and phrases tumble over each other to crowd the page, and other times, the page remains blank because a long, dry spell has control of my sub-conscious. Writer’s block is for real from time to time in a writer’s life. And it’s to be expected. As far as I can tell, there’s no quick cure for it.

Journal entry: “I have no creative thoughts but I feel compelled to write something. Drove out to Banner Mountain. Enjoyed the peacefulness of the woods. I always like to go back there.”

Going back to Banner Mountain is like going back home–the place I left at the age of barely nineteen. On an autumn day following our wedding and honeymoon, my husband and I loaded our wedding gifts into the car he had borrowed from an Air Force buddy and we began our journey in life together. A couple of days later, we arrived at Smoky Hill Air Force Base out on the Kansas plains–the countryside so different from my beloved Banner Mountain, with its woodlands, its songbirds, goldfinch on hoeand its kind and gentle people. I would meet other wonderful people as we followed my husband’s military career. I would live in other states in the United States and in one foreign country before my husband retired. After his retirement we moved back to Arkansas, back to the Ozarks to live not very far from Banner Mountain.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

Banner Mt.