Time and space, emptying themselves, sketch fermatas in the
sky.
An incongruous croaking lifts my gaze above the quarry rim
to silhouettes perplexing the buoyant air.
Great blue herons settle in the crown of an oak,
conjuring perches among the leaves and twigs.
Their verticals hold and rise in a magisterial skyline.
Time and space stretch taut, tuned strings
that sing to a pedestrian moment
above the world.
Wind, or a thought, or the conflict of grace and gravity
unsettles the pose. The birds become avians again.
My logic embarks on wings.
Ribbon legs trail behind retracted curves
of terrestrial business. An ordinary bargain deploys against
the sky.
I raise my camera, an agnostic to miracles.
Absolutely beautiful thoughts, words, and photographs. I spent nearly 30 gracious years living in coastal South Carolina where herons of all sorts were abundant. The Great Blue was not so abundant - or so it seems to my recollection so seeing so many together is a real joy. Thank you for sharing all of this Martin.
ReplyDeleteI love reading this blog, all the more because Halibut Point was one of my husband's favorite places to photograph birds, splash in the tide pools, and contemplate the enormous horizon. My husband died in September and next spring I will return to Halibut Point to scatter his ashes. Your blog helps me to continue to feel connected to this place, and through this place, to him. Thank you.
ReplyDelete