As I mentioned last time, it’s been a hard season for forest babies: no eaglet, no owlet, no bushtit-lets. After realizing this wouldn’t be the year for any of them, it took a while to recalibrate my attention toward the less conspicuous developments of spring nesting, those subtle clues to smaller dramas. On closer inspection, the Black-capped Chickadee hopping through the hawthornes turned out to be gleaning nutritious protein for its children, hidden somewhere in nearby shrubbery but peeping insistently for their forthcoming meal.
From the book: Albatross
"How would it feel to fly as an albatross, to feel the wind under my wings, stretched luxuriously out to my sides, borne aloft by a cushioning wind? Would it feel like swinging on my childhood swingset, the brief and easy pumping of my little legs carrying me higher and yet higher into the free blue sky, the air swooshing past my chest? Or would it feel more like riding my bike downhill on a wide path, holding my arms out to the sides as gravity pulls me along? I held out my arms to practice."
Photo Collection: New Additions