Posts Tagged ‘storm’
robin in the rafters and in rain
If you are a bird, this is the time of year for nest building! An American robin has built a nest in the support beams of our deck. Years ago we had fun watching a robin build a nest and raise a brood in the rafters of our cabin.
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This year’s nest builder thinks the deck is his alone. Going in and out by way of the deck gets us a scolding. The robin puffs out its chest and tries to lure the marauders away. I am afraid to go near to get a photo since I might disturb eggs or chicks, so a photo of a robin’s nest in winter will have to do!
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Sudden Storm
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dusk
half darkness
the moon rises
a sliver from full
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spaces yawn
liquid robin song
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aspen, motionless
poplar tremble
a nuthatch rustles in the leaves
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wind chime plays a scale
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cloud stretched across the moon
a hand pressed to the treetops
leaves turn to the silver underside
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warm splashes
polka-dot the patio
puny dust storms on the step
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streamers stripe the glass
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curtains of rain
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Copyright Jane Tims 2017
the worry in weather
On Tuesday afternoon, Mr. Snowman waited on our back deck for the Nor’easter to begin …
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We are coming to the end of the rains associated with this week’s storm, a Nor’easter that brought snow, ice pellets, sleet and a lot of rain. In our area, we had about 45 mm of rain, but some parts of the province had over 100 mm.
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Many people in New Brunswick are coping with flooded basements as a result of all the rain. After our flooded basement experience in 2010, I spent the last couple of days in worry – hoping our drainage issues are fixed and making endless trips to the basement to make sure we had no water on the floor.
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Today I am grateful – we had no problems with flooding. Our space is safe and we are warm and dry.
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Last night, on the back deck in the dark, after all the rain, Mr. Snowman lay on his back. The rain took most of the snow but he is still smiling. He knows more snow will come!
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
Arthur – during the storm
front yard during Arthur
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trees in hurricane rain
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Arthur
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woods are a green ocean
swell, each oak a breaker, and pines
crash on the shore, withdraw, branches
lift and fall, lift and settle
maples gyrate, invert their leaves, backlit
waves, spray from every
blade, winds tug at petiole, green
debris on the deck, fallen stars
on the lawn, the wind a rumble, every
branch a knife, each trunk a bow, bent
beyond the stretch of fibre, trees heave
branches lash, in the woods a crack
pummels the growl of a chainsaw in
the neighbor’s yard
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bunches of leaves on the deck
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a crack in the branch of our maple
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
pitfalls
If the space you occupy, your niche, has benefits to nourish, lift and sustain you, it also has its pitfalls, its dangers. Animals know this and their adaptations to their habitat are as much about avoiding danger as they are about obtaining food or shelter.
Think about the Groundhog family in the grey woods behind our house (see post ‘the location of our picnic table‘ August 20,2011, category ‘wild life’). The Groundhog’s tunnels are designed to provide shelter and food storage, but they are also designed for checking out the enemy and for quick escape.
Like the Groundhog, I try to prepare for the pitfalls. I have an emergency kit, including water and a flashlight, ready for severe storms, unexpected floods, and power outages. In spite of this, when our basement was flooded last December, I found I was poorly prepared and all I could do was concentrate on the small steps toward return to normalcy.
The path through the grey woods has its own pitfalls. When I go for walks I have to beware of fallen trees…
roots ready to grab an ankle…
branches reaching to poke an eye…
and the risks of not looking around, and missing something special and ephemeral…
pitfalls
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soft places in the earth
hollows in the leaf layer
deadfalls to snag the surest ankle
roots that reach for the body
and chasms to claim it
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gaps in the greyness of pine
spaces to spill sunlight
admit the riot of leaves
and the keys of the maple
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holes in the layer of cloud
snags in the curtain
knots in floorboards
eyes in the blackness of night
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flaws in the fabric
seams to part and peer through
paths we have crossed before
in other ways
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© Jane Tims 2005
'red mushroom'
