We must mark
and celebrate
these cool August
days.
Unimaginable—
to experience days of 60-degree mornings—
in August
in Oklahoma.
And yet….
here they are.
Extremes,
indeed.
Expect the unexpected,
indeed.
Pretty much everything
has grown
and produced
a month early this year.
And now,
already,
the light
is that of autumn.
I breath into
this cool, cloudy morning,
and watch
a small, bright yellow bird,
unfamiliar,
fly into the Arborvitae,
and wonder if migration has already
begun.
Still, the grasshoppers chomp
(though they haven’t eaten everything this year)
and the cicadas serenade.
I watch the peachy-gray cat
leap into the air,
extending its full body,
to catch a springing grasshopper
and cheer its success,
(startling it);
(quietly) marvel at its elegance.
Mostly,
I watch the hummingbirds:
three of them,
about the size of the biggest
grasshoppers,
zipping and whirring,
diving at the one that makes it to the feeder
first,
squeaking at each other
as they pass.
They zoom from feeders to trees
in a perpetual circle,
chasing,
sipping—
while constantly on the lookout—
resting then
on tree branches.
I tend to romanticize
hummingbirds.
Wondrous,
beautiful,
delightful.
And yet,
they seem to have challenging moments
too.
Not so challenging for us,
this August morning
as clouds build in the north
and the breeze grows stronger,
blows cooler,
from the east.