Month: March 2006

Snow Geese

Despite forecasts for showers and overcast skies, I decided Sunday that I had to head out for Fir Island our I would have no chance of seeing the large flocks of Alaskan Snow Geese that overwinter there.

It turned out to be one of those rare sunny Spring days, dominated by this panoramic view of Mt Baker and the Cascades:

Unfortunately, when I got to Fir Island this lone eagle and I were all that were left to wonder where the Snow Geese had gone:

As we drove through the countryside we could see flocks of the geese in distant fields, but like most birds they’d learned how to stay as far away as possible from passerbys and their prying cameras.

I did manage to get a picture of these two, but after looking closely at the misformed beak on the bird in the background, I wondered if it was a domestic goose, not a snow goose, even though the one in the foreground certainly looks like all the other Snow Geese I saw off in the distance:

Honestly, though, if I hadn’t seen a single bird, not the beautiful eagle sitting on the pole next to the highway, nor the kingfisher that dove past us as we hiked the beach, it would still have been a beautiful day.

Late March at Nisqually

Last Sunday Mike introduced me to local poet Kevin Miller, who he‘d previously told about my web site. After seeing my pictures, Kevin graciously presented me with this poem he’d written about Nisqually Wildlife Refuge:

LATE MARCH

First light on Hawks Prairie, an owl draws a flat line
into a stand of fir. Twin barns reappear on the Delta.

What returns without bidding is as sure as brothers
home to help with heavy chores, and more.

The slip to day catches night flight, paths cross,
chance lifts a curtain and certain structure

rises before dawn’s stall keeps the hunter aloft.
Left to the morning, harriers will etch shadow marks

over marsh and sloped roofs. Rainier will float like a white
kite tethered to the river strung east through alder.

Songbirds are a month away. Last season
the path to the Reach gave up the fanned wing

of a barn owl, a morning-after memento
dusting airy repose from the great horned dark.

Unfortunately, I‘ve yet to observe owls in flight, but the hope of seeing an owl flying through the sky, as well as the other sighs Kevin describes draw me back to Nisqually “as sure as brothers/ home to help with heavy chores.“

It was probably mere coincidence,though it doesn’t feel that way, that when I returned to Nisqually the next day I found the owls’ nest that I’ve been hearing about for awhile. Though it was difficult to get a picture of the owl hiding in the dark crotch of a tree, here’s my first attempt at getting a picture, all be it one that required too much lightening in Photoshop to be entirely satisfactory:

I haven’t purchased one of Kevin’s books yet but Everywhere Was Far is available at Amazon.

You can also find a poem entitled No Halo
here as well as another poem entitled When My Mother here.

Rexroth’s Tu Fu

Although I prefer Chinese poetry that has stronger Taoist or Chan Buddhist elements than those chosen by Kenneth Rexroth in One Hundred Poems from the Chinese. However, even Confucian poets manage to include taoist or Chan elements in their poetry. Tu Fu is generally regarded as a Confucian poet, but my favorite poem of his in Rexroth’s selection sounds like it could have been written by a Taoist priest, perhaps because of its setting:

WRITTEN ON THE WALL AT CHANG’S HERMITAGE

It is spring in the Mountains.
I come along seeking you.
The sound of chopping wood echoes
Between the silent peaks.
The streams are still icy.
There is snow on the trail.
At sunset I reach your grove
In the stony mountain pass.
You want nothing, although at night
You can see the aura of gold
And silver ore all around you.
You have learned to be gentle
As the mountain deer you have tamed.
The way back forgotten, hidden
Away, I become like you
An empty boay, floating, adrift.

Though this is a classic, idealistic, portrayal of a Chinese hermit who has cut himself off from the concerns of the world, but the careful attention to detail, particularly the “aura of gold/ And silver ore all around you� and the smooth transition to the narrator’s own feelings at the end of the poem that make it a masterpiece. We all long for the ability to “want nothing,� to be at one where we are, and perhaps we’ve all felt that in the beauty of the mountains.

My other favorite Tu Fu poem is

LONELINESS

A hawk hovers in the air.
Two white gulls float on the stream.
Soaring with the wind, it is easy
To drop and seize
Birds who foolishly drift with the current.
Where the dew sparkles in the grass,
The spider’s web waits for its prey.
The processes of nature resemble the business of men.
I stand alone with ten thousand sorrows.

The first five lines almost sound anti-Taoist in the sense that it is “foolish� to go with the “flow.� Drift along in life, and someone above will swoop down and destroy you. Perhaps that would be a Confucian objection to Taoist philosophy. It’s not enough to go along, one must strive for position and be aware of those who would conspire against you.

Even the Puritans thought that God delivered messages through natural events, the difficulty, of course, is interpreting those events correctly. I do know that the phrase “sitting duck� has taken on an entirely new meaning to me since I started visiting my nearby wildlife refuge regularly.

No matter how we read it, though, “the processes of nature� can certainly be as cruel as “the business of men,� giving ample reason for “ten thousand sorrows.� It’s hard to admire the beauty of owls, hawks, and eagles without realizing that they prey on the small birds that we love to attract to our bird feeders.

Kids and Grandkids

My favorite poems in Rexroth’s One Hundred Poems from the Chinese are generally those by Tu Fu, but this poem by Mei Yao Ch’en seemed apt since I was also including a happy birthday note for Lael,

XXXVI
AN EXCUSE FOR NOT RETURNING THE VISIT OF A FRIEND

Do not be offended because
I am slow to go out. You know
Me too well for that. On my lap
I hold my little girl. At my
Knees stand my handsome little son.
One has just begun to talk.
The other chatters away without
stopping. They hang on my clothes
And follow my every step.
I can’t get any farther
Than the door. I am afraid
I will never make it to your house.

and it does an excellent job of conveying my own feelings towards my children and grandchildren.

I still remember how lonely I was after my divorce, but having kids stay overnight was an instant cure for that loneliness. I suspect that if I’d had custody of the kids I might never have started dating again, at least until they had left for college.

In my old age, I’ve grown more independent, but I still find it hard to resist the opportunity to baby sit grandkids, though ideally not the night the Huskies are playing a Sweet-16 game.