I know I promised you a second round of tales from Norway, but frankly I’ve been too busy being a tourist, and desperately trying to ignore US politics. We’re in London now, on the last leg and last day of travel. Here’s a poem to hold you until I get back to work again.
Birds climb up through the holly by my window
All year long. There are house wrens in the spring,
(building bassinets in the laundry room), snitch finches,
Blue jays in the summer, long swooping shadows -
Catbirds stealing home, a complaint of mockingbirds,
The constant reign of cardinals.
A battalion of cedar waxwings arrives in winter,
Followed by Robins, bold and swollen;
A blitzkrieg on the bushes that bear fruit.
Bluebirds are OG, with an entourage of
Thrashers and woodpeckers -
Demanding mealworms and fresh towels.
Towhees kick dirt and leaves at them
In obvious distain.
It’s hard to write for others and be a tourist too. What I did while in Israel years ago was write a synopsis of the day’s activities at night before going to bed. With today’s cell phone cameras it makes this twice as easy to do. Back in the bad old days(1994)I had film and the resulting pictures to create a scrapbook along with a diary of sorts that allowed anyone with my album to know what was going on and when. I also supplement even today with postcards when I can find them as many pictures on them have been shot from above or other interesting angles that may be unavailable to the photographer.
Have fun though wherever you are 👍.