Guest Blogging for the ABA!

That's right, I have  some exciting news: I am blogging for the American Birding Association's Eyrie blog this coming week! If you would be so kind as to head to their website and check it out, please do so! A wonderful organization that is doing their absolute best to conserve our nation's birds and educate the public about them. My post about the Ohio Young Birder's Club trip to the Cleveland Museum of Natural History will be up next Monday, so keep an eye out!

Peace Always,
Kristina

  

Wings Upon the Evergreens

The winds are getting colder and the snow is beginning to fall. Winter is fast approaching.

Written October 24 2011

Wings upon the evergreens, sheltered from the wind

Sparrows, robins, nuthatches to the tree are pinned.

Gales whip their feathers round, bitter cold and strong

Winter comes and winter goes; it always stays too long.

Between the icicles cardinals flock, red and warm like fire

Though the coldness never dims, the birds will never tire.

Chickadees and woodpeckers chatter in the snow

Perhaps they speak of seasons past or the way to go.

The birds, they fluff their plumage out while the wind blows it astray

They dream of spring and sunny flights a thousand weeks away.

~Peace always,

Kristina~

Perfection Found

Gliding with something beyond grace, the swifts sweep through the amber sky on needle wings. Their bubbling voices scatter notes like raindrops on all ears in range as they effortlessly twist midair in their sunset frenzy. Their feathers fan and fold with the changing winds, hairpin turns making for spectacular displays. Quickly, quickly, they zip over and under one another in a chaotic yet elegant whirl. Carefully reckless and abandoning any concept of impossibility, the birds hungrily fly into the wind. The bristles on their bills ruffle erratically. Nothing is between the swifts and the horizon; they have their sights set on the end of time. Barley distinguishable wingbeats carry them closer with each passing second. Their simple task of nourishing themselves on airborne insects has evolved into a dance of freedom, a passion for the sky and an unimaginable vigor radiating from their feathers. Minuscule in comparison to the atmosphere are the swifts, yet they decline to acknowledge their apparent insignificance. The birds are simply overflowing with energy and ability and life. Their tiny shadows ripple over the surface of the earth, the only reminder of their reality. Divinity is found not in distant starry fantasies, but in the feathered beings in the skies above our heads. We need not scour the universe for perfection, for it is present in birds.