The Bones of Things

Wrapped around my Cabin and going for 200 acres, the Hamilton Audubon Refuge shows the bones of things. Layers of moss are underlaid by glacial gravels atop the riven bones of rock scraped clean by glaciers.
Pine trees reach skyward maintaining a shallow toehold on impenetrable rock. At the base of one such tree a black Bic Velocity pen lay spattered with pine resin far above it a trio of freshly carved holes. Is the pen mightier than the beak, one might ask?

At the base of another pine, a shallow pile of owl pellets slowly disintegrates, tiny bone chips merging with moss.

The grain of underlying rock at Hamilton Refuge juts fingers out into Back Cove. Covered with shards of clam shells, they’re kill zones for Black Back Gulls during low tide.

The late Spring winds of Care

The late Spring winds are blowing today. It is warm, sunny and beautiful here in midcoast Maine! I had to leave my usual perch at the crest of the hill; the winds were too strong. Even the Phoebes have moved out of the wind.
How I welcome their repetitive calls back and forth.

There is a time to enjoy the force of the wind, a time to repair to shelter.

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