(marginalia vitae)
two years ago, there were 6 pigeons, maybe fewer even, flying in and out of the yard. normal pigeons, powder-blue, mad-eyed, pretending to be the navel of the world. there were two crows too. and 17 cats, most of them ferals. and of course, there were the herring gulls and all sorts of other white […]
Read More threethe voice, over the green, beyond the smell of a stale river, a clear flute of the evening come early enter the leafy temple: the alders will give way, the aspens rejoice, the birches, smile and say — listen to lindens lisp see how the osiers preen up to be seen by you — the […]
Read More warblingA blackbird, his wife and a pair of bewildered sparrows Look up from the ground — Thunder is coming. Rainworms are reckless, Leaving their safe darkness to look with sightless eyes upon stormlight. And so they leave, Half a rainworm each, to shut little yellow yelling mouths to make more of their own kind, In […]
Read More stormlightI was greeted by starlings, Shrilly flapping about, And laburnums, golden and poisonous, And some wind, mild… Chestnuts readied their buds Against the rowans across the street, Poised to burst any moment And fill the sunshine with glee; I was greeted by seagulls, Alabaster shapes glued to the sky, As the earth kept turning away […]
Read More greetingsPale green, then orange Flash upon black. Something white flutters — The ground is touched. The ground trembles Ever so slightly, to open The eyes of tulip-tubers And daffodils, snowdrops And those little seeds forgotten By sparrows and the occasional squirrel. Orange is not true, only Grown under a glass roof In a micro-world, attended […]
Read More Pale green and orangeit’s snowing again making the sky pale some featherly, some finely ground flakes obscure the antics of all the world’s seagulls rejoicing in flight white on white, and grey upon grey outlined by black pinions the gulls soar avoiding the descent of criss-cross crystals whilst the very indistinct crows hold on to the weeping branches […]
Read More a pale view of gullsThere! A nuthatch flourishes Like something exotic High above the brown and the black of the trees. His song is thrilled About small worms and big challenges: To feed. To be warm. To seek Life above all things. Blue, grey and nicely orange, Sing, sing and cling To the branch upside down — Dive deep […]
Read More exotically greyfound this one today. too many feathers to sit in the nest. too few to really fly. pity, it would have made a wonderful sparrow one day. mother nature sometimes goes for the smartest, not the fittest, it seems (sigh).
Read More a fledgling sparrowfrom where i sit, through the sunlit stain-glass, you are shadows flitting up and sideways against the light, building a continuation to things i barely understand. from the outside, i cannot reach skywards enough, so deep etched in the eaves is your work. little sounds, chirping, dollops of mud and what liquid you find to […]
Read More little grey birds build their nest in the arch of a church windowwind marches over the green-less tops of occasional oaks and larches he sits, all ruffled beady-eyed, watchful, face close to the wind the grey patches overhead run amok, scattering the hoard of blue the sky protected so hard his colleagues gather in other trees, taking top places, discussing the recent, waiting for something to crop […]
Read More a crow sits on treetop between two bouts of ephemeral snowwhite reflects all light. so the thought of purity and so on is a little far-fetched, yet many still adhere to it. white does not allow anything too close to contaminate it. it is the colour of aloofness. and yet – when the white snow covers the mud and the little (and the gross) indiscretions […]
Read More six – the colour whitewe made a dream-catcher. from willow and some knobbly yarn and two feathers – i think one was from a crow, and one, from a pigeon. the pigeon feather was picked up in the forest, how i came by the crow feather, i do not recall. and we put in two spiders – i thought they […]
Read More two – of trees, branches and dream-catcherspain remains. in its incapacitating, insane clarity, pain remains. and suddenly, there is no space for questions of why and what for, because there is only that which is. pain. it will pass, at some point, i know, this is only a bout, a fit, incomplete and unfinished, searing the edges of what i thought […]
Read More when all else failsthis is a translation from “Dīvainā karaļvalsts” (The strange kingdom) by J. Rubenis. i kinda found it a little bit inspiring. especially the bird part. PUTNU SARUNA Reiz divi putni pils dārzā savā starpā sarunājās. “Bruņinieks saprot putnu valodu un ir nelaimīgs, jo viņš arī grib būt putns,” teica viens. “Vērojot putnus, viņš ir iemācījies […]
Read More a little bit about birds and gardensthe goose knows the magnetic poles, and can fly at night, navigating through weather and time, rain and wind, finding the track their parents have shown them only once before. the goose knows which grasses are good, which grains help you grow, how to build nest so that the younglings are safe, and where to […]
Read More goosethe april sun has melted the snows. mostly. the sparrows run round with huge fluffy visages of feathers and bits of string if they can get any. the starlings wreak havoc on lawns, and mayhem in the branches of the trees they consider their home now. the crows have finished building the nests, and now […]
Read More april 11, 2012 (it’s because i ran out of imagination)at some point wolfie said sth like – everyone has one’s own birds in their head. and i suddenly thought – gee, what a brilliant formulation. those idees fixe, bees in the bonnet, little tantalising grains of sand in the brainmachine… maybe they are just birds, mucking around and having fun inside our brainspace. and […]
Read More the birds in my headeven if living here, one is supposed to be proud of the winters with their cold and snow and blizzards and ice and whatnot, and sort of look down on the ‘southern softies’, i sometimes think that a more temperate climate would be an advantage. i am bored by monochrome. i want daffodils. but the […]
Read More another conjunctiona swish of soot-black, a flash of bright yellow, a song of explosive laugher… blackbird in snow.
Read More them outside my windowcreeps into my bed, following the patterns of moonlight. do i care? do i know. a friend said i looked tired. i guess i am. emotionally. but there is little respite right now. this week, and then two more weeks. to last, to survive. and then practice the non-celebration of birthday of birthdays. hide from […]
Read More insomniahave left. this was on the news. i woke up grey today, like the earth and the sky, and the fallen leaves in the mist. and i thought, those swan-less days before the first snow touches down will be as grey as i will think them. i have to put up the bird feeder soon. […]
Read More the swansthis autumn is not rich in frosts, so the maple leaves turn bright yellow which creates an air of lucidity hard to describe, whatever the colour of the sky. especially when the sky is grey. it seems the sun herself* has come down for a visit ever so brief before the passing of the light. […]
Read More transparent air