May 7: 80 degrees in Belfast

First warm night--

street music, chimney swifts,

and suddenly, a longing...

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May 6: Shine

Who can think straight
with the glare off the river
shining through new green leaves?

May 5: What returns

Warblers singing--

still lying across the trail,

winter's broken boughs.

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May 4: Birdsong

I heard the song of the Black-and-white Warbler, which sounds like a squeaky wheel turning, on my walk to work this morning. One of the earliest warblers to arrive each spring, this was the first one I'd heard this year.

 

Warbler song--

the warmest weather rolls in

on its squeaky wheels.

 

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May 3: Absent-minded

A crack in the blind--

I forgot about the moon

until it shone through.

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May 2: Blue

There's the blue through spruces

that is sky

and the blue that's sea.

 

 

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May 1: Frog pond

My husband and I are spending the weekend at the Schoodic Institute, part of Acadia National Park in Down East Maine. This afternoon before dinner we walked through spruce woods to a small pond filled with singing frogs. They quieted when we showed up but eventually started up again, enveloping us in a music so loud we could feel the sound vibrate in our jaw bones. Our ears hurt by the time we left. Overhead, a raven chortled, used to it all.

 

Old frog pond--

we wait long enough

for the chorus to resume.

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