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You can’t turn your back on it,
you know.

You’ve tended to it, cared for it,
nursed it from vacant bones and
put meat to its flesh, but it doesn’t
know any better, does it?

You won’t be able to make it
understand exactly what time and effort
and love you’ve put into it, or what
hope you have for it, what future
you want for it.

Sure, you can pander to it,
plead with it, prey about it,
but it is not so much deaf as alien,
aware, alive, yet unknowing-
uncaring for our ways.

Unlistening and yet hearing, it
is just another animal, another
guiltless stray that wanders on in step
with us from the moment we take it in
to the feasting scraps of
our final days.

And, worst of all, it will not linger
when our kindly offerings are gone.

No. It will just do as…

One mistake that could have been prevented

But not easily fixed.

Stir until the bumps begin to smooth out.

Add a dash or glimmer of hope to taste;

Enough that it can still be crushed

But not enough to overpower.

Let sit until it ferments

And spreads

Sinking into the crevices in your brain

Leaving you with nothing

But an aftertaste

Of what could have been.

Wicked, the name given because
of pure ambition, the drive that
separates me from those who have
given up their dreams in turn for
what might be considered a safer
secure “i-do-alright’ kind
of life, the title corralling me
out of commonalities and placing
me behind lines drawn, mind boggling
technicalities that would see me waste
my life away if I try to play the
game that they set out right,
refusing to jump through hoops
I end up on my own life blood,
the essence of my own time,

So I must stalk through shadows
in search of success and wade
through early morning hours
in pursuit of my happiness
while time slips mercilessly
ever onward in despite of my
drooping eyes and caffeine weakens,
the effects draining over time,
till I am left running on my
will alone though, thankfully,
it is on it that and my strengthening

For the last two years, we have watched our two ospreys come and go from Belle Grove. They arrive in March to the same chimney every year. Our first year visiting Belle Grove, we named them “James” and “Dolley”. Last year, James and Dolley had two babies. You may have remembered them from our YouTube video.

http://youtu.be/e8p3yZ5lr1k

This year we were racing to get their nest moved from atop of the chimney to a new nest platform pole. We knew that once they arrived back in March, if we didn’t get their nest moved and a chimney cap placed, we would have another year (March – September) with them nesting on the roof.

We did our research and found the information on how to build the platform and how to place the nest. We got really lucky too. We needed to have a telephone pole moved a little farther off…