...I saw how wings worked...

Bird
by Pablo Neruda

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

Phone calls, a walk and groceries kept me from posting as early as usual. I suppose I'm a bit tired from yesterday too.

We had a wonderful day at the Museum of Science and I beamed with pride, knowing through Blip, the son of the inventor of the Van de Graaff generator making this electricity exhibit possible.

Here I am in my 'Natural Habitat' at the Museum, a replica of an old schoolhouse. Actually in 28 years of teaching, I never had a proper desk.

Then up late, watching the Oscars, hoping and cheering for the documentary film, Saving Face, co-produced by Z's cousin. It won and again I beamed and teared up because of my special Blip connection.

Isn't this place grand?

For the Record,
This day came in warm and windy. Snow later in the week????