I went a walking this evening,
back into that space once field
now meadow. With me: my partner
and those two dogs of ours.
In the hours before, rain and wind
Burst across the scene, bringing
Much needed drink for those
of us that take root here.
But now that meadow danced with life.
A rabbit took to foot, the cardinals
declared the evening mass, and the
red winged blackbirds canted their songs.
Further back we went, the dogs
finding sticks to fetch or chomp.
I checked in on the recent transplants,
now but a few weeks in their new soil.
There several paces ahead, I saw the
flicker of an azure wing. I pointed
and paused…(silence please)
…(let's hold our breath now)
A bluebird, make that two birds. Each
giving chase to the other. We stopped.
And gave them space, staying far clear
Of those hollowed houses we setup.
From whence we came, we turned back
Silent in prayer for sanctuary…
May you find your place, bluebirds, for
This is your space, more so than mine.
And may the starlings not drive you away.
(Though I'm a starling some would say.
Yet here too am I, in this place
I call home, but from whence I did not come.)
Thank you. A significant challenge with bluebirds is the starling population; the starlings are aggressive and will take over the bluebirds habitat. Starlings are unwitting colonists of North America, now quite common.
> The European starling was purposefully introduced to North America in 1890–1891 by the American Acclimatization Society, an organization dedicated to introducing European flora and fauna into North America for cultural and economic reasons. Eugene Schieffelin, chairman at the time, allegedly decided all birds mentioned by William Shakespeare should be in North America (the bird had been mentioned in Henry IV, Part 1). A hundred of them were released from New York's Central Park.[6]
-- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starling#Distribution,_habitat_and_movements
I love it all, the rhythm, the simple words that convey so much, as opposed to the flowery "purple" prose (or poems) of some writers. I'm intrigued by the cardinals declaring the evening mass and birds "canting" a song (cantoring, yes, but canting implies more). And the ending is sublime! I am a starling - I call this place home - we are all interlopers, sojourners, intruders, if we think about it, and so most of us never think about it.
Thank you @owasco for resteeeming (re-hiving?) this, or I might not have seen it. And thank you, takeonrules, for a lovely birdsong in human words.
Ok, I had to look it up. I think of cant, the verb, as a tilting or slanting or leaning, but it is in fact more, as you already knew.
Definition of cant (Entry 1 of 7)
1: the expression or repetition of conventional or trite opinions or sentiments
especially : the insincere use of pious words
the cant of hypocrites
2: a set or stock phrase
3a: the private language of the underworld
the cant of thieves
b: JARGON sense 1
cobsolete : the phraseology peculiar to a religious class or sect
4: affected singsong or whining speech
a beggar's cant
LOVE it!
Thanks. I really loved writing about the birds in meadow. When we moved here it was a vast (invasive) grassland. We put up bird houses and started planting trees. In the ten years, we've watched the types of birds change. The tree swallows and bluebirds are more rare, but we've heard wood cocks, brown thrashers, cardinals, and the red wing blackbirds.
Of all the birds, the red wings are most territorial; they chatter over their domain (or parish as I think of it). And the connection between cardinal the bird and cardinal (the religious rank) connects with the mass and binds lightly with the cant (phraseology) of the red wings; but perhaps their's is a cant of the underworld.
Your reply is as intriguing as your poem - the cardinals (double entendre) and canting red-wings.
Those birds are so bad-^ss, they swoop down and kick my husband in the head (or bike helmet) when he bicycles past. They're LOUD, too, like honking cars, warning of an approaching bicyclist.
A vast and invasive grassland - now that is a challenge! Planting trees may be the easiest way to conquer the non-native invasive species. I tried that in our wetlands. 20 years later the reed canary is still a vast monoculture, and the trees (only a few ever grew) were toppled by a derecho.
Great name: Brown Thrashers - do birds have "gangs" the way people do? Blue jays = Bullies....