Greater Sage Grouse (Draw a Bird Day)
expansive,
this clinquant carpet–
roots capture
water, feed
both animal and plant life–
keep the land intact
The greater sage grouse is the largest grouse in North America. Its only habitat is the plains, foot hills, and mountain slopes where sagebrush grows. This makes it extremely vulnerable to habitat loss; the population of sixteen million 100 years ago is now estimated to be less than 500,000. This decline is due to the usual issues: clearing of land, overgrazing, residential and energy development, herbicides, wildfires, and non-native invasive species. Despite these issues, Congress declined to list these birds as endangered.
Both males and females have brownish grey mottled feathers, but the males are distinguished by yellow patches above their eyes and yellow air sacs on their neck which they inflate during their elaborate courtship rituals. As they puff out their chests, they fan their tails into starbursts and emit pops and whistles.
Each spring up to seventy males gather in a group called a lek to perform for several hours in the morning and evening while the females watch. Only one or two dominant males win the contest to mate with the females. Males do not participate in chick-rearing.
Seventy percent of the sage grouse diet consists of sage. They also eat dandelion, legumes, yarrow and wild lettuces. Insects are the primary food for chicks. Sage grouse nest on the ground and adequate cover is crucial for nesting. Predators include coyotes, bobcats, badgers, falcons, and eagles. Crows, ravens, and magpies feed on juveniles and prey on nests.
My poem is a shadorma for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using a word from the uncommon fall words list she provided. I chose “clinquant”, which means glittering with gold and silver, to describe the sagebrush ecosystem which can look both silvery, from the sagebrush vegetation, and golden, from the pale yellow flowers that appear in late summer.
Sagebrush is the foundation for this ecosystem which supports many native species besides the sage grouse, including burrowing owls, pygmy rabbits, mule deer, pronghorn, and bighorn sheep. The Audubon website says “Nearly 100 bird species depend on sagebrush country for their habitat needs.” It is a beautiful landscape, well worth preserving.
Murmuration (Draw a Bird Day)
the way excess
thought leads
to starlings
a geometry
taking wing
–Peter Gizzi, “Suddenly”
I’ve done posts about both starlings and their murmurations before, but I never really did much research about either one.
Starlings are an introduced species to the United States. One story has it that they were released in Central Park in the late 1800s in an attempt to populate it with all the birds mentioned by Shakespeare, but that has never been definitively proven. Another theory is that they were brought here in an effort to reduce insect pests, which they are very effective at doing.
However they arrived, being adaptable birds, they now number in the millions across the North American continent. Starlings are considered an invasive species and are reputed to compete with and displace many native birds, although the Cornell Bird website said that a study done in 2003 shows little effect on other bird populations. Despite the beauty of their murmurations, they can be pests, both because of the sheer size of their flocks, ant the fact that grain crops are a favorite meal.
Social and gregarious, starlings often forage with other birds, including, as I know from my own observations, sparrows, pigeons, robins, grackles, and crows. They are great mimics, as I also know from experience. One of my apartments had a kitchen window right above the roof next door, and every morning they would serenade me with their repertoire of songs. Evidently they can also recognize other individuals by their calls.
A few other things I learned:
–The males build and decorate nests with ornaments including flowers and trash to attract females. They also add herbs to repel insects. Once mated, pairs are monogamous, devoted parents, with both incubating the blue eggs. They nest in cavities–tree hollows or man-made structures.
–They grow new feathers every fall with white tips that make them appear spotted. Over the winter the tips wear away and in spring their plumages appears darker and more iridescent and the reflected colors intensify. Their beaks also become brighter yellow.
–Starlings migrate. I did not realized that as, like robins, many hang around the city all year.
The murmurations are truly wondrous things of beauty. As Wikipedia notes “the flock moves as each individual synchronizes with its nearest group”–thousands of wings creating patterns that appear both random and choreographed.
I’ve written several starling poems of my own–here’s one.
wings scatter in light,
a mystery, their mission
illegible to
human eyes–tantalizing
visions of layered
complexity, a mirror
reflecting the wind–
following a rising path
toward the Seven Sisters
September 2025
September is complicated with ends and beginnings. It’s not always clear which is which. The year has accumulated, and there is so much left undone. I always mean to simplify, but instead of subtracting, everything seems to multiply. Again, again.
Crow is back, spending his mornings standing his chosen ground as high as he can perch on the water tower two buildings over. He complains and proclaims his right to call the neighborhood to attention with the first hint of dawn. Wake up! Wise up!
Too soon the trees will lose their green and their foliage and the branches will make their beautiful winter patterns against the sky.
I puzzle out a grid
while my mind wanders the crossroads
looking for lost time
This is another grid I created by cutting up some of my old textile print designs. The pieces were irregular, which made it like putting together a puzzle. It’s not at all a perfect fit, which is pretty much how life unwinds, at least for me
Self Portrait #23 and #24 (after Jawlensky)
My identity is sometimes a no opposing yes and sometimes a yes opposing no. I can’t discern from its past positions which will show up—the untamed glare or the subdued darkness. Even the meanings of the meanings sing differently when they are lingering in the wide spaces between a brief certainty and an indefinite ambiguity. Night provides no refuge from contradiction—dreams only confuse the boundaries further, blurring both my body and my mind.
color changes form
as light questions what is real–
face or mask? or both?
The Kick-About this week provided a painting by Alexej von Jawlensky, “The Girl with the Green Face”, as inspiration. You may recall that I used this artist for one of my self-portraits for KA #124 as part of my long-abandoned 100 Self Portraits series. Hoping to continue with it, I selected Jawlensky’s “Mystical Head”, above, to make another one. And of course, the Kick-About provided an opportunity to do a third portrait for the series. Now I need to move on to a new artist.
All of these self-portraits bear a certain resemblance to me which makes me wonder: what do I really look like?
For some reason WP would not let me reblog this Kick-About, but to see everyone’s wonderful responses, I’ve provided a link to the post, here.
Inca Jay (Draw a Bird Day)
I swim inside a cloud sea, surrounded by color and sound, under a canopy of mossy green. All my senses are awake. Red, yellow and purple orchids emerge from the ferns that line the winding path. Flashes of iridescence appear and disappear in patterns that remember lost dreams. The air is alive.
voices intersect
in layered complexity–
wings flash silver skies
The Inca Jay, like all corvids, is an intelligent and social bird. Native to the cloud forests of the Andes, it has proven adaptable to diverse ecosystems, and so has not yet become endangered like a large number of other cloud forest species have because of deforestation and habitat destruction.
Living in flocks of up to 30 birds, Inca jays have developed complex vocalizations which they use to communicate while foraging. Their diet consists of fruits, insects and small reptiles–they are integral to the control of pests in the forest and also play a key role in seed distribution.
Although breeding pairs are monogamous and mate for life, they practice cooperative breeding, where non-breeding birds assist in raising the group’s chicks.
My haibun was inspired by Frank’s dVerse subject of silver. The International Cloud Atlas classifies the fog of the Cloud Forest as stratus silvagenitus–“created from forest”.
July 2025
oasis–
inside the heat dome,
cool sweetness–
icy pink
lemonade, watermelon,
beneath backyard trees
I’m a bit late for last week’s Tanka Tuesday prompt from Colleen to incorporate fruit into a poem, but it’s perfect for beginning the month of July. Today promises to be another hot and steamy day, just right for the watermelon I brought home last week from the fruit stand on Broadway. If only I had a forest inside my apartment too…
Once again I’ve made a grid from cutting up some prints I did in my textile design days. I left the third design in the group (the circles in the second image) alone though–it reminds me very much of the beach, which would also be an excellent place to be in this weather.
My boyfriend in 1969 looked a lot like John Sebastian here, sideburns and all. I still see boys with hair like this, but I haven’t seen sideburns on anyone in a long long time.
Blue Footed Booby (Draw a Bird Day)
Blue feet dance
quixotic love songs
sky pointing
The blue footed booby lives on the western coasts of Central and South America. Its name comes from the Spanish word for foolish or clown-like, bobo, and its vivid turquoise blue feet.
Boobies are curious and tame around people, and many of the photos I found showed them seemingly posing somewhat goofily for the camera. They are often photographed doing their mating dance, in which they flaunt their blue feet, and raise wings, tail, and beak to the sky–“sky pointing”.
Boobies are monogamous and mated birds can recognize each other by their calls. They lay their eggs on bare ground, nesting in large colonies. Half of the breeding pairs nest on the Galapagos Islands.
The female turns constantly to face the sun while sitting on the eggs, forming a circle of guano around them. This helps disguise the eggs from predators such as hawks. Boobies are quite passive when confronted by potential threats.
Outside of breeding season, boobies spend almost all their time in the water. Agile flyers, they plunge-dive from heights up to 100 feet to capture and eat their prey underwater. Because of this behavior, they breathe through the corners of their mouth–their nostrils are permanently closed. Their diet consists almost entirely of fish.
Their yellow eyes are oriented to the front, giving them excellent binocular vision.
The present booby population is around 6,000 and declining, mainly because of the decline in fish populations, especially sardines.
The Magic of Light
This week the Kick-About explores the art of James Turrell.
Painting this weekend
I picked up a paintbrush this weekend. I haven’t posted here since March. No excuses. I haven’t done any art work since then (with a few exceptions). Kerfe’s wonderful posts keep this blog going.
Not sure what I’m doing in these other than messing some paint around and glueing stuff on.
I did this one a couple of months ago.
I tried to do a couple of portraits of my co-worker’s mom who died at age 49 last week. Portraits are not my forte but I try.
Still doing clam shells. I have a box of them.
I apologize for my absence on Word Press and humbly offer this recent work. My best to all you wonderful people.
Nina
method two madness 
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