What could I say that wouldn’t fall short
Of describing your true beauty, softness, and elegance
Staring longer would only draw me further away from reality
Lost in thoughts, imagining, forgetting who, what, where we are
Nevertheless, for this fleeting moment, I found myself
Searching for words to describe a feeling, but failed
Some things better remain unsaid, some words unspoken
A thought came to mind as I walked away
I just kept going quietly
We both knew
… for the tulips.
I know, it’s not how the saying goes. “You can’t see the forest, for the trees,” is the more common expression. But I couldn’t help myself. With my lens at ground level, surrounded in red and white flowers reminiscent of the Canadian flag, among green leaves and stems, I realized I could no longer see the thicket of cedars a few feet beyond. I smiled and thought of this overused idiom, amused. I could no longer see the forest for the tulips…
This is the last of the winged visitors I met at the Indigo bookstore. This beautiful monocled great grey owl has been taken in by the folks at the Prairie Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre after he was hit by a car. The collision injured his left eye, which had to be surgically removed. That didn’t stop him from keeping a close eye on me.
This is the largest of the owl family, with a wingspan that can reach 152 cm. I’m told that its size is somewhat deceptive, made up mostly of fluffy and broad feathers. It is rather lightweight.
I met this 11-year old peregrine falcon at the Indigo bookstore, of all places. We could tell, from her loud squawking, she was very happy to come out and meet with the other bookworms. She suffers from cataracts (who would have thought birds get these too?). The nice folks at the Prairie Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre look after her.
If you like peregrine falcons, you might enjoy watching a livecam from a rooftop nest, here in Winnipeg. Charming…
I had never seen one of these before. This probably explains why:
Where mice and other small mammals are concerned this fierce, silent owl is anything but cute. One of the most common owls in forests across northern North America (and across the U.S. in winter), saw-whets are highly nocturnal and seldom seen.
This little owl is a northern saw-whet owl, a patient at the Prairie Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre near Winnipeg, Manitoba (actually in St. Adolphe). I met her, two other patients (peregrine falcon and great grey owl) along with great volunteers from PWRC at the Indigo bookstore—who would have thought, of all places—while I was there for a book signing.
Hidden on a branch
On this thin line between sunlight and shadows
Like birds on a wire
Shoulder to shoulder, strength in numbers
Outstretched thin arms
Cradling one precious seed, a teardrop
Nobody will hear it fall
On the green safety blanket below
Yet all will know
It came from your bleeding heart
Time of the lilacs
Sitting in the shade of the canopy
Its unforgettable fragrance hypnotizes
Conjuring memories of days gone by.
Of all nature’s perfumes, lilac is my favorite
For too many reasons, happy and sad.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply…
A true delight for the senses, and the mind.