November 2017

Tree Swallow

I open my eyes and hear a Song Thrush outside. When I was little, my grandfather taught me the names of all the local birds and how to recognize them. His favourite was the Tree Swallow. He loved its shiny green feathers and the way it swooped and flew in the sky. I glance at […]

Afternoon Turns to Evening

afternoon turns to evening we wait cockatoos call through rustling trees their voices harsh, jeering, even— as though mocking us with their secret language water strokes the land’s edge with little splashes—plop, plop. and then three white specks soar over the water and onto the trees beyond if we were close enough, we could hear […]