Your mother’s favorite bird was the one in front of her.
— Richard Powers, Bewilderment: A Novel (W. W. Norton & Company, September 21, 2021)
Photo: DK @ Daybreak. 6:23 am, September 24, 2021. 58° F. Heavy Rain. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT
…his long neck folded
August 24, 2021 by 17 Comments
All winter
the blue heron
slept among the horses.
I do not know
the custom of herons,
do not know
if the solitary habit
is their way,
or if he listened for
some missing one—
not knowing even
that was what he did—
in the blowing
sounds in the dark,
I know that
hope is the hardest
love we carry.
He slept
with his long neck
folded, like a letter
put away.
— Jane Hirshfield, “Hope and Love” from “The Lives of the Heart: Poems“
Photo: DK @ Daybreak. Heron. 6:03 am, August 22, 2021. 75° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
Sunday Morning
August 8, 2021 by 18 Comments
Saturday Morning
July 10, 2021 by 13 Comments
Monday Morning Wake Up Call
November 9, 2020 by 39 Comments
DK. Daybreak. November 9, 2020. 6:35 to 6:50 am, 44° F. Wind: Light. 3 mph. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT
Breakfast
September 12, 2020 by 56 Comments
Breakfast. Bird catches Fish. Crab holding on to the fish tail. Double Jeopardy! September 12, 2020. 5:35 & 5:45 am. 60° F. Winds: Gusty. The Cove, Stamford, CT
Saturday Morning
September 5, 2020 by 26 Comments
Daybreak. September 5, 2020. 5:57 to 6:49 am. 63° F. Humidity: 73%. Wind: 7 mph. Gusts: 13 mph. Cloud Cover: 13%. The Cove, Stamford, CT
Sunday Morning
August 30, 2020 by 15 Comments
Daybreak. August 30, 2020. 5:55 to 6:15 am. 66° F. Humidity 76%. Wind: 11 mph. Gusts: 28 mph. Cloud Cover: 3%. The Cove, Stamford, CT
Monday Morning Wake-Up Call
July 20, 2020 by 56 Comments
The Good News.
There’s no morning drive to Work. No 40 minute commute home in traffic.
There’s no one hour Metro North ride into the city for Manhattan meetings. No one hour return trip on packed commuter trains jostling for an open seat. There’s no walk to/from the commuter trains in suffocating humidity. As Jeffrey Eugenides puts it: “It was one of those humid days…you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.”
Today, the commute from Bed to Breakfast to Office is less than one minute. Air conditioning cools, a steady 71° degrees.
The Less Good News.
Work Hours: Up ~20% per day. Calls, emails, Zooms, conference calls. Add the pandemic anxiety to the tonic, and you have a giant Boa asphyxiating its prey, as I sit, sit, sit, and sit some more — from daybreak to late dinner, and again the next day, and the next and the next. And the body, and the mind Scream: You’re sliding Pal, things gotta change. These Home Office walls are closing in.
The Pivot. [Read more…]
this is how I would…
September 27, 2019 by 20 Comments
The startled blue heron erupts out of its long-legged
inwardness and flies low to the pond over its
shadow. My eye flickers between its great sweep
of wing and its blurred mirror motion almost white
in the pond’s sky-shine. At the end of each wingbeat,
the long body dips toward its rising shadow. Now
the heron settles back down onto itself as far away
from me as the pond allows and I finish my walk half gangly,
half graceful thinking if I were a bird, this is how I’d fly.
~ Nils Peterson, “Blue Heron” from All the Marvelous Stuff (2019)
Notes: Poem via 3quarks Daily. Blue Heron photo: Pennington
