breaking open to the world ...

machans beach
a black faced woodswallow
quietly guards its nest
outside the local post office
this most social of spaces

cattana wetlands at dawn
dante meets her first jabiru
in a small muddy waterhole 
his enormous yet graceful form
providing such delight 
when startled - taking flight
young eyes as wide as his wing span 

the papuan frogmouths 
have returned to their wet season roost
their arrival causing a flurry amongst the indian mynas 
who banding together
tried to discourage them - and failed
 much to our joy

evenings now spent listening 
to wings cutting through darkness 
as the frogmouths snare 
some unsuspecting all-too-content prey...

dante babadog and I
at mission bay
a lazy day 
in shade and on sand
across the water
two jabiru
glide into view
and together we bask
in the light breeze and balmy sun

mission bay
spotted by stylus 
as we walked at dawn
still alive when we saw him
but his battle scars and beaching
 left us thinking 
his time was short

I had always hoped to see a dugong
 but this moment filled with awe tinged heartache
such a gentle creature suffering 
from injuries I suspect humans have caused...

such beauty 
and sadness
thinking of the new zealand oil spill
& a poem by Mary Oliver

[Mary Oliver]

Here is a story
to break your heart.
Are you willing?
This winter
the loons came to our harbor
and died, one by one,
of nothing we could see.
A friend told me
of one on the shore
that lifted its head and opened
the elegant beak and cried out
in the long, sweet savoring of its life
which, if you have heard it,
you know is a sacred thing,
and for which, if you have not heard it,
you had better hurry to where
they still sing.
And, believe me, tell no one
just where that is.
The next morning
this loon, speckled
and iridescent and with a plan
to fly home
to some hidden lake,
was dead on the shore.
I tell you this
to break your heart,
by which I mean only
that it break open and never close again
to the rest of the world.