Bear serenade

Ursine spirit lumbering
through dark of the moon,
how may I go to him?
I will be devoured.

In the winter he crawls
to a place of darkness and warmth.
Shrugging off the wailing wind
he sinks upon mouldering leaves
and sleeps while the world dies,
while it storms.

Dreamless eyes dark with cavernous shadows,
fur dense as quilted ground beneath hemlocks
guarding the northbound rockwall
arrayed in ice that never thaws before April,
when ferns uncoil their croziers tenderly.

He rests until
spring comes to air
his breathless coma,
sunlight penetrating his bed
tracing pathways.
And he is hungry!

I'll go a-bearing
as soon as thick snow melts
and the forest opens.
Find me a bear with legs thick as trunks
and ravenous muzzle
his jaws strong as death.

Maul me among raspberry canes
one day in August (feel the hot sun).
I'll fill my mouth with blackberries
to sweeten my flesh,
let bright juice rivulets
run over my lips and bones.

©2001 Van Waffle

~~~~~~~

Something trapezebear posted reminded me of this poem, a sentimental favourite. It was written March 3, 2001, and was previously published on Themestream.

Bird trip postponed

Jon just called. He found out his son is graduating from college tonight. He asked if we could postpone our trip and bird count until next week. How could I say no?

Actually I'm relieved. I had tidied the apartment this afternoon, washing dishes and putting away laundry, and yet I felt mentally unprepared for the trip.

This bird count is part of the Canadian Breeding Bird Survey and has a counterpart in the U.S. Volunteers across the continent make this count once every spring to provide an index of nesting bird populations, a useful indicator of biodiversity and environmental health. The data can be viewed on the North American Breeding Bird Survey website.

People are encouraged to do the same route year after year for consistency. I was lucky to snap up the route nearest my cottage when the previous volunteer died, and have been doing it since June 2000.

You drive a 40 km route starting a half hour before sunrise. Every 0.8 km (about half a mile) you stop, get out of the car and count every bird you see or hear in three minutes. You have to be able to identify all potential birds by sight and song. It takes about five hours and is both delightful and exhuasting. Last year I identified 55 species.

If you are curious to know more, read my account of the first run three years ago: Songsters of summer solstice.

We'll drive up to the cottage on Monday night and do the count on Tuesday morning. Jon has Tuesday and Wednesday off, so we will be able to stay and enjoy the cottage for a while instead of rushing back.