I see a Barred Owl from the corner of my eye.
Is it stretching its wing or getting ready to fly?
With intense eyes, the owl stares.
I am concerned and a little scared.
I raise my camera and push the button.
Now I know this event will not be forgotten.
Photo and poem by Richard Smith
Camera used is a Sony A77II, Sony lens 70-400mm, ISO 3200, 400MM, F7.1, AT 1/1000 Sec.
I am a barred owl whose skill is to hunt.
Like night-light vision and soulful brown eyes,
I can search from high in a darken sky.
In a dash and swoop, my prey I confront.
By day, I rest and snooze within a tree.
If I’m awakened by an unknown sound
With eyes wide open, I look all around.
my head turns to all sides so I can see.
Photo and poem by me (Richard Smith)
Photo was taken with a Sony A77II, Sony lens 70-400mm, ISO 3200, 400mm, f/7.1, 1/1000 of a sec. Location: Nolan Trail, Newport News, VA 4/21/17
Spring is the birth for a new beginning.
Life starts from a passion of affection.
Pollination begins with life’s connection.
Plants bud, flowers bloom, and birds start singing.
Mating rituals start with a dance of love.
He sings his song to the one of his choice.
She beckons his calling with sounding voice.
A new generation they are thinking of.
Hurry! Hurry! We need to make this nest.
For I am with family can’t you see.
I will build this nest from the very best.
This is for you, me and the other three.
Babies nestled under their mother’s breast.
The fledglings were loved, nourished and had no need.
Photo and poem by me (R. Smith)
Photo was taken with a Sony A77II, Sony lens 70-400mm, ISO 800,
400mm, f/7.1, 1/1000 of a sec. Location: Lions bridge, Newport News, VA
Splash, crash, the Brown Pelican is hit with a surge and a wave. Each curl pushes her closer to the jagged rocks. A place for the territorial Great Blue Heron. A hoarse, guttural squawk of the Blue Heron marks a warning to any intruders. The Herons’ yellow eye looks at the pelican with anger. Fearful for her life, the Pelicans’ web feet paddles with all its might, her wings push at the top of the water to help free her from a catastrophe from the rocks or the sword like beak of the Blue Heron.
Photo taken with a Sony A77II, Sony lens 70-400mm; ISO 200, 320mm, f/5.6, 1/500 sec
I swoop and dive into the river James.
Out from the shallow water’s a fish I retain.
My young juveniles with open beaks awaits me.
I nourish them with fish I caught by the talons of my feet.
Pictured taken from a Sony A77II, Sony lens 70–400mm,
1/1250 sec., at f5.6, ISO 400, 360mm
Artificial snow flakes glow under a darken sky.
Tears of sadness flow from His cry.
Once this was paradise when all was nice.
Now you wander aimlessly, blinded without real light.
Seek the true light and your way will always be bright.
Comments are welcome.
Words and photo by R. Smith
Comments and critiques are always welcomed.
This is a story about three British brothers of His majesty’s navy named Boney, Bones and Boner. Several hundred years ago they were chained and shackled in an underground dungeon in the very pits of the Capitol of Williamsburg. They were accused of witchery. Instead of death by fire, they were to rot to death. At the time of their sentence, an old haggard woman with a long chin, warts on her nose and hair like straw placed a curse on them. The curse was for them to live forever without skin, mind, heart and spirit. It is year 2016. The Skeleton brothers have resurrected from the pits of the underground.
Boner stands with telescope in hand over-looking the area as Bones lowers Boney to the ground. Boney hollers to Bones “Don’t let go of that rope or my bones will break.”
Once on the ground their bones rattled as they ran to the fence. Swiftly they climbed over the gate. Boner yells, “We are free at last.”
The three of them stopped for a break. Bones says,” my joints ache, it must be arthritis.” “It is old age, here eat an apple” said Boney.
Boner points to a stage coach. “Let’s try to get a ride to Yorktown, maybe we can find our old sailing vessel.”
Buds are bursting and spring has sprung.
The glum winters’ end has come.
Spring winds blow to welcome a generation of new.
Chirrup! Chirrup! I chirp this song for you..
Comments and critiques are always welcomed:
After a scorching summer, today is a blessing. The heavy over-cast clouded sky sprayed a light mist throughout the day. I stepped outside, and a chill hit me like you’d feel when you first jump in the water. As I walked to the river, I became more aware of my surroundings.
Squirrels noisily scampered over the fallen leaves to search out the fallen acorns. A crisp autumn day displayed its colors like an artist’s palette of reds, yellows oranges, and browns. Leaves of oak, maple, and elm laid among the musty rich soil of last year’s decaying leaves. The once vibrant green leaves still cling to the limbs, are now withered and spotted with age.
I inhaled deeply and smelled the smoke of burning cedar from the chimney of a nearby house. A fishy scent permeated the air as I came closer to the water. Like steam from a boiling teapot, cloudy vapors hovered on the waters’ surface. Drops of rain pelted the water like bait fish jumping in and out of the water.
In the distance, I heard fog horns bellow out their low blaring signal. Out from the waters cloudy vapor I could see the silhouette of a crab boat. As it got closer, crab baskets stacked 4 high seem to overflow the boat’s tiny deck. The boat cut a deep wake making its way to the pier to off load its daily catch of the day.
In these days of technology and fast paced time, we no longer take in the beauty of nature and hear the sounds of joy. Although the day was dismal and dreary, I found happiness and pleasure in capturing the various senses of my surroundings.