Spent several hours on Bradbury Mountain this afternoon at the Spring Hawk Watch there that's sponsored by my friends at Freeport Wild Bird Supply. The air felt postively springlike for a while; teens were showing up at the summit in shorts and tank tops. Several eagles, red-tails, vultures, and other raptors cruised overhead, along with other migrants--robins, Great Blue Herons, and geese. Before I realized, several hours had passed.
Birded Scarborough Marsh this morning. Despite the remnants of snow and a lingering chill, spring waterfowl--geese and ducks--are returning at last, courting and displaying on the rising waters of the spring marsh. And yet, two Snowy Owls linger during this season on the cusp...
Just a dusting of snow here in Penobscot Bay. East and inland from here they're getting serious snow today, which I'm happy to miss. But bone-chilling, gale-force gusts have certainly livened the day, transforming the air into a dynamic, roaring creature intent on eating us whole.
We freeze in our tracks--
March's untamed lion roars,
flings itself at us.
I read today in the New York Times Magazine about a fascinating project to restore extinct animals. Something about trying to bring mammoths and Passenger Pigeons back into an overdeveloped world undergoing global warming troubles me. So many species still here simply require some care and conservation attention to not go extinct: endangered Piping Plovers being run off beaches, prairie chickens being closed out of habitat by cattle ranchers, white rhinos in Africa, right whales, elephants...
I know, I'm no fun for thinking this way. Where's my creative spirit? We killed them off, but we can bring them back! But this, to me, doesn't seem all that different from Monsanto's genetically engineered corn.
Slowly the dirty snowpack in the back yard is melting around the edges, a receding glacier. Slowly the edges of the lawn are revealed--as well as dozens of sticks and branches blown from the trees during this winter's several storms, sticking up out of the snow like black claws.
Branches reach out of snow
all over the lawn.
I dreamed zombies chased me.
Oh, the painful illusion that spring might be coming soon. A day in the 40s highlighted by sunshine and birdsong, to be followed by another messy snowstorm tomorrow... A season on the cusp. The ducks, however, work with whatever they're given.
Before the next storm
ducks dabble in snowmelt
on the frozen lawn.
After a class on relics at the Jung Center of Maine and dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant, thinking of vestiges of the ancient world still with us, like reminders of the classic Greek and Roman gods and goddesses.