
All of these photos were taken around my home, Wit's End. Above left is one of our cats: Eddie, whose real name is Oedipuss. Eddie follows me around the yard like a puppy! He's a real hoot when I'm trying to work in the garden--he likes to climb on my lap, or curl up in front of me--makes yanking up weeds a little tricky, and there's nothing like having a furry cat on your lap in 90 degree temps!



And here are the mini-poems:
Friday, January 27:
High up in the oak
the gang of five--
sparrows--
survey their hood--
the empty feeders,
a moldy, cracked birdbath.
Not even the mockingbird scares them.
They watch squirrels and chipmunks,
look the other way at a fly-by
slaying of a rabbit,
maintain stony silence
when the cat approaches,
then harass a red-tailed hawk
who ventures too close
to their crib.
Saturday, January 28:
I nearly missed it:
coyote on the run,
under the fence,
into the woods.
Safe now.
But who is more frightened?
Tonight, I walk faster,
carry a big stick.
Sunday, January 29
The stray cat, unhappy
to share his meal with the raccoon,
waits impatiently behind the holly,
frowns at me as I watch through the window.
Sorry, little kitty.
Tonight, it's first come,
first served.
Monday, January 30:
January tricks the daffodils
into waking early. Fools the tulips
and forsythia, too.
I warned them not to believe her,
even as I tossed aside my coat,
and turned my face to the sun.