Thursday, April 21, 2011

Cedar Waxwings

Two years ago today I happened to look out the kitchen window and watched as a flock of crested birds swooped into the yard and flitted between our birch tree and the neighbor's maple. They were cedar waxwings looking for berries together before mating season would pair them off.

"A flock of cedar waxwings on the neighbor's maple tree..." sounds a bit like the beginning of a poem.

I haven't seen one of their kind since.

Dedicated to Grandpa Bob, a bird lover himself. Happy Birthday, I love you and miss you!


  1. Very nice, Emily, and thanks for remembering Grandpa Bob.

  2. Thank you, Emily. Love the poetic symmetry of nature in this. It is a wonderful way to be remembered. Reminds me of lyrics to song, "I'll Fly Away"

  3. I would love to hear you go with that beginning line of the poem, and see where you "fly" to. Happy days remembering Grandpa, Lucky are we to have known him and loved him, Lucky are we to have each other to see him live on in each of us...