Posts Tagged ‘hummingbird’

Haiku for a Hummingbird


orange flowers bloom

behind the pillar pine tree

for a hummingbird


Vacaville, CA


Birds in Natural Bridges State Park

Yesterday, I visited Natural Bridges State Park in Santa Cruz, California. I saw three sharp-shinned hawks flying between tall trees, a California Gull by the ocean, and a hummingbird, a bushtit, and a Great White Egret in a green pond beside the Butterfly Sanctuary. A few monarchs fluttered here and here, and two were definitely flirting with each other, and it was all very beautiful to see — although poison oak was thriving everywhere, even interwoven with flowering blackberry brambles and growing through the railing of the walkway!


Great White Egret

(a song from “The Jazz Bird” by Jane Beal & Andrew Beal)


“All the Birds on Christmas Day” by Jane Beal

I didn’t know the birds were weeping.
They might have been singing praise!

The black phoebe, the hummingbird,
the distant geese I heard –

I thought they were a choir
for the most extraordinary birthday

the world has ever known.
But maybe the Great White Egret

standing on the side of the freeway,
not wading in the wetland waters

should have been my clue
that there is no joy on earth

not mingled
with lingering grief.


Davis & HWY 37


LISTEN: “Haunting” (Great White Egret)

Birds by Jacqui Dunham

“Seeing Things” by Jane Beal

I see things
no one else sees:

seven seagulls swooping in a circle
over a city street –
the silhouette of rock dove landing on a rooftop
outlined on a plaster wall by the morning sunlight –
a truly tiny hummingbird holding still
in a pomelo tree under a canopy of green leaves.

I hear things
no one else hears:

like the sound of an unknown bird,
startled and crying, when my dog
dashes beyond the fence, searching,
and I can’t explain this moment
any more than I can stop myself from crying
for every man killed in Orlando last week.

Illuminate the eyes of my heart, O God,
and open the ears of my spirit.


Father’s Day


“Life-Cycle in Lithia” by Jane Beal

TurkeyinLithia (1)

Two Stellar’s jays
with their black hoods and blue capes
go soaring across our line of vision
into the summer pines.

A mourning dove flies left above us,
a twig in her beak, still busy
building her nest
for another set of twins.

We walk past a pond and see
four mallard ducks, all green-headed,
—no hens—and one stands apart
from his three friends, watching us.

On a shaded lawn, we are drawn
to the mama turkey
with her five young Turks
strutting around her like princes.

By the stream, between two giant redwood trees,
the silhouette of a hummingbird hovers
in sunlight from heaven that caresses her alone –
our heart, there, dancing in mid-air.

After we leave Lithia,
my step-father remembers
my brother Andrew as a boy
chasing pheasants in Arizona.


Ashland, OR

On Mother’s Day, the Hummingbird

On Mother’s Day, the hummingbird

chitters incessantly outside my window –

diving down into the bush

 with jade-green leaves

to feed the hidden babies

in a tiny nest.