Wild Cape Photography
Snow pours out of an angry sky,
The wind cuts like icy blades,
Yet the Dove flew on through it all.
Cold like fabled frosts of yesteryear sets in across the land,
The sun is a distant memory of warm summer days,
Still, the Dove flew on.
When he finally finds his place of respite,
He settles in for a rest,
Bracing himself against the storm,
But no matter the conditions against him, the Dove will fly on.
Alone he stands over the world on high,
Scanning the land with his glimmering eye,
Like a flash of lightning, he takes to the sky.
He goes screeching over the icy plains,
White wings on his back and ice in his veins,
On he flies as the sunlight drains.
-James D. Vespoli
The sun creeps ever so slowly over the snow-covered mountain,
Cardinals sing out to the new mornings’ arrival,
Cold wind whips over the placid landscape,
A flock of Geese cries out overhead,
As they glide on in V formation.
The tiny creek slowly trickles on as ice floats downstream,
A bright orange Fox leaps through the new-fallen snow in search of breakfast,
The sky above the bucolic scene is painted a light shade of amber,
Giving warmth to the frozen earth below.
Most mornings begin like this,
With balance and tranquility,
Nature’s symphony continuing.
-JDV
It’s the common birds that bring me joy,
The Sparrow and Cardinal,
The Chickadee and Nuthatch,
Each coming and going,
The same birds every day.
With each morning visit, they bring rhythm and balance,
They are not mundane, each with their own personalities,
Surviving and even sometimes thriving in the cold winter months.
Like old friends returning again and again,
Especially in a time when there are the few welcome visitors,
They are a sight for lonely eyes.
-James D. Vespoli