The Shape of Open Spaces - Haiku

and a story "Kingfisher Swallows His Tail"

Passionflower photographed near the Guild Trail, Chattanooga, Tennessee.

Please take note: I have deactivated my Facebook and Instagram accounts. They may reactivate in a week, but I am tired of all the chatter for now.

The Shape of Open Spaces - August Haiku

Cicadas buzzing 
High pitched wine antiphonal 
To droning tires.

Pathways to the stars
Sunlight on trees' undersides
Sycamores and oaks

Ripples on the creek glint
Quantum singularity
Is not possible

Old bones warm in sun
The creek goes on unconscious
Of my hopes and pain

Moon peeks through branches
As owls echo down my lane
A full, bone white moon

Downed limbs and branches
Become nurse logs for new trees
Their wood is fertile soil. 

Each wave catches and
Holds the moon’s light for lovers
Kissing in moonlight

Luminescent tide
Strives against the rocky shores
Light moves with the waves

Mountain mist opens
reveals a tree-lined summit
ignores passing cars

Blue skies appearing 
Clouds create a new doorway
For passing birds

Orion rises
Moon Shadows dance on the road
Maples drop their leaves

Moon peeks through branches
Dreams grow bright as frozen air
Forest brightens too

Bone white moon setting
Salmon wash paints eastern sky
Songs of birds begin

Breathe with each motion
I stretch in cool morning  air
Moon just out of reach

Glow of spiders’ eyes
Dots of light cover the lawn
Like green eyes of deer

Pair of eyes appears
Shining from a lower branch
Small brown moth takes flight

A celebration
Katydid songs fill night air
Leave a legacy

Moon’s unblinking eye 
Stares at fertile land below
Summer storms arrive

Kingfisher Swallows His Tail

Many of the kingfisher’s dives were false starts. The bird would plunge earthward and then stop and hover. Perhaps the fish would move to the side or dive deep. Perhaps it was too small to be worth the effort, or too large to swallow. The kingfisher made many short dives before it finally plunged into the water with a loud splash.

Then the bird was gone. I was unable to tell if the hunt was successful or not, but I later discovered that it was a male bird with none of the red band on the stomach characteristic of a female Belted Kingfisher. Unlike many species of birds, the female Belted Kingfisher is more colorful than the male.

As I turned and began the journey back to my truck, I passed the tall upright snag in the center of the large pond. I spied the Kingfisher on his customary perch. His beak seemed larger than usual. With binoculars, I saw he was holding a fish. The meal was nearly half the bird’s length, and nearly as wide from dorsal fin to belly as it was long.

The thickness from side to side was considerably less, so the fish had the shape of smaller members of the sunfish family. From the distance, I could not tell if it was a green sunfish, a bluegill, or a shell cracker with red gill tabs.

Whatever the species, the fish looked far too large for the bird to swallow. The kingfisher turned his head first one direction and then the other, shifting the fish in his beak. I didn’t believe that the bird would try to swallow so large a fish, but soon it was pointed head first into the beak. In this position, the bird could swallow the fish without fins, spines or scales opposing the motion and damaging the delicate tissues of the throat.

With a quick upward thrust of the head and an opening of the beak, the fish’s head was lodged deep in the bird’s throat. Then the real work began, and several powerful thrusts of the head brought most of the fish into the bird’s throat. Only the tail remained protruding.

The bird thrust its head again and again, but the mandibles remained parted with the tail lodged between them. I wondered if the bird would ever be able to swallow that last little bit of fish. Perhaps it would be doomed to starve with the fish tail preventing it from ever swallowing again. Perhaps it would digest the head and swallow the rest later, much as a King Snake does when it eats another snake too long to swallow.

Then, with one energetic thrust of its head, the bird raised its beak skyward, opened wide, and engulfed the last of the fish. Perhaps the bird would remain immobile for a few hours, much like the guests at a Thanksgiving dinner.