[click in the lower right corner to enlarge]
Hundreds of migrant chimney swifts enter the chimney at Free State Bookbinders in Baltimore City last night for their evening roost. Recent rough estimates come in around 2000 birds roosting in this single chimney, though on peak migration nights that number can double or even triple. If you do some investigation in your area you may find there’s an annual event like this near you, too. If there is, I highly recommend checking it out–it’s quite a spectacle! More info here.
Posted by birds fly on September 18, 2016
psithurism n. sound of wind whispering in the trees.
And thus waking to the first instance of psithurism born of a cool breeze do we now herald the arrival of autumn, though the equinox is yet seven days hence. Get thee behind us, summer, and yield the stage to your more attractive successor. Thank you.
Posted by birds fly on September 15, 2016
A groundhog (aka woodchuck, whistlepig, etc.) takes the early morning sun.
Posted by birds fly on September 6, 2016
Worn late-summer Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. Note the faded and ragged wing tips, completely missing the ‘swallow tail’. They’re almost too degraded to identify the sex, but based on my other photos I think it’s a male. The light form of the female has much more blue on the hind wings. Still, it’s kind of a tough call.
Late-summer Eastern Tiger Swallowtail with bee companion.
Posted by birds fly on August 26, 2016
Dissonance streaked with melody
See also: live version (best viewed in seizure-inducing full-screen mode)
Posted by birds fly on August 22, 2016
inside outside hot
inside cold and outside hot
all hot but one room
dry faded flowers
offer seed of life in death
a bird flies off full
the walls are falling
glimpses seen through plaster cracks
yet there are no walls
Posted by birds fly on August 15, 2016
ghost cats of Delverne
from their hilly perches stare
white sentries above
Posted by birds fly on August 8, 2016
Posted by birds fly on August 4, 2016
Posted by birds fly on July 28, 2016
One of the wipers was broken—stuck in place—going nowhere. As I stared through the rain-smeared windshield I wondered how exactly I had arrived here. The parking lot looked familiar. I knew I worked at this place, but what of the last few hours. Waking, eating breakfast, deciding (oddly) to drive instead of bike…what of those actions. Gone—all of them. With trepidation I opened the car door, walked across the dirt parking lot, and entered the building. Inside, coworkers and friends from long ago gathered around a table in the vestibule. I sat with them, aloof and guarded—unwilling to divulge the increasingly alarming gap in my memory. As I casually looked around, I noted three doors leading from the the main lobby. One of them led to my place of employment. But which one. I didn’t recognize the people passing through on their way in. I craned my neck as each door opened, but saw no familiar landmarks or personages beyond any of the three. Suddenly I realized I also could not recall the appearance of my own personal office space. So should I even guess right as to the proper entrance, I would not know where to go once inside. It appeared that I would need to take a leap of faith—there was a choice to be made.
Posted by birds fly on July 26, 2016