Posted in Nature Photography, Nature Poetry, Wildlife Photography

A Heron in the Fog

The deep white fog rolled into the bay like a tidal wave,
Covering it in a deep sacred shroud of white,
Then the clouds opened, and the rain fell as if it was poured from some heavenly sea,
In the distance, a Great Blue Heron calls out.

He stalks his prey through the fog,
As he moves, raindrops slide down his smooth long gray feathers,
And the deep mud of the bay pulls down his feet with every step.

His movements are like that of the ocean, slow and steady,
Only to be followed by something powerful and unstoppable,
He strikes a violent stab at the ground,
Then disappears fish scales gleaming from his beak into the fog.

Posted in Nature Poetry, Wildlife Photography

What Must Birds Think of Us?

What must birds think of us?
Rushing from one place to the next,
Always in a hurry,
Never once basking in the sun.

What must birds think of us?
So careless,
Yet so precise,
Hardly considered what other creatures need.

What must birds think of us?
Some feeding them,
Some loving them,
But all never genuinely understanding them.

What must birds think of us?
When we destroy their forest homes,
Only to build houses,
And plant new trees.

What must birds think of us?
How wonderful,
How dangerous,
How odd must we seem?

Posted in Nature Photography

The Dove Flew On

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.

Posted in Nature Photography

The Beauty of Common Birds

White-throated Sparrow

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