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Book of Days

BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY

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Filtering by Tag: hunger

July 3: Baby birds are bustin' out all over

Kristen Lindquist

As I stand here at my desk, three young crows are whining in the driveway, begging one of their parents for food. They're full size and look almost exactly like the adult bird, except their gapes--the insides of their bills--are bright red, and the gape flanges along the edges of their bills are still obvious, giving them a lingering hint of that baby bird look. The parent bird shoves something into the mouth of one of the whiners, and they all shut up for a few minutes. Left on their own, they spread out across the lawn to graze quietly. Two of them peck at unripe blueberry plants. At that age, why not try everything?

Begging young crows--
I'm wondering,
does appetite ever cease?


February 27: Hunger Moon

Kristen Lindquist

The February full moon of two days ago was referred to by some native tribes as the Snow Moon or the Hunger Moon. Hunger Moon especially makes sense, because this is about the point of winter when it gets harder for creatures living off the land to find food and stave off the seemingly ceaseless cold and snow.

In the snow under my feeders I noticed today tracks of mice, squirrels, and crows gleaning the seeds that the messy Blue Jays spilled. Taking what they can get. Many of us feel a certain hunger for something intangible this time of year, that restlessness for spring to begin to regain control of the landscape again, a renewal of faith in the cycle of seasons. As the effects of global climate change manifest themselves more dramatically, we're going to need that faith more than ever in days to come.

Wind howling,
tracks in the snow.
Dark hunger of need.

July 2: Rumblings

Kristen Lindquist

Sometimes it's challenging to determine what's internal and what's external, leading to the mind-bending conclusion that my digestive system and the sky full of towering gray storm clouds are both parts of some grand, rumbling whole...

Summer afternoon--
is that my stomach growling
or rolling thunder?