Morning After a Spring Storm

Eastern Sky after Last Night’s Storm

Morning Sky in the West

It’s quieter
this morning after last night’s storm.
Air is still,
not the slightest stirring.
Birdsong rings out.
There’s a softness,
a resting,
in the dampness,
cloudiness
as I take a morning walk
to look at the clouds,
check the rain gauge.
More than an inch of rain fell.
I fetch a shovel
to dig into the softened soil
and under the roots of a patch of
Milk Thistle.

A Little Rain Water, on the Porch

On the porch for breakfast,
I sit in the soft, cloudy, quiet.
Two green and, well, ruby,
Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds
whir past,
chasing,
hiding in the tree,
sneaking over to the feeder.
A third, a gray one,
whirs up to another feeder,
squeaking as she drinks.
A shy Baltimore Oriole
flies close to the feeder,
sits on a branch instead.
Bluejays and Sparrows
chirp; Woodpecker “churrs.”
Our friend Gail,
whose been keeping up
with the stories
of a Woodpecker couple’s nesting,
sat on the porch earlier in the week
and watched the hole in the Hackberry
where we think the Mamma Woodpecker
is sitting on eggs.
Sure enough, she saw a Woodpecker
fly up and
peek in the hole.
This morning,
Woodpecker churrs from somewhere above,
but I dare not move to look at the nest,
or I will disturb the birds
who’ve come close.

Ruby-Throated Hummingbird
Baltimore Oriole
Red-Bellied Woodpecker

Sun shines through clouds,
casting shadows on the Hackberry
and brightening the yellow
of the Canola field half a mile away.
But it’s only for a moment,
and I’m glad.
The softness
of the quiet, cloudy, damp morning
remains.