Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver

My husband and I love to take country drives, especially to Eagle Bluffs, a local wetlands on the Missouri River. Along the way and throughout the wetlands, we have taken to counting the deer. We love sing the fawns and occasional buck. Last year we saw several bucks, even in our neighborhood park. These drives rescued us from the pandemic blues. Being in nature is healing.

I wrote this poem about our drives for Poetry Treasures 5: Small Pleasures. The poem shows our love for the animals and yet our grief over the losses there. We see fewer and fewer birds for various reasons. This summer the pools of water piped in from the river have been drained for repairs to the pipes. As a result, the ducks, geese, heron, egrets, and pelicans have moved closer to the creek or river, or just moved on. A bummer. But the deer are enjoying the grass growing where the water once was. And the vultures are dining on the dead carp. In some pools, there are rain puddles. We can’t wait to see the pools refilled.

We used to see swans at the wetlands, but one by one, they died. Last year we checked up on a lone pelican separated from the flock. Perhaps an injury kept him or her living at Pool #1. Occasionally an egret would be seen there with the pelican. Once, another pelican appeared. But for the most part, the injured or reclusive pelican was alone. Then one day, s/he disappeared.

The Wetlands

Country drives are clear of diseased air.
Sunflowers at the wetlands lower their heads
to face the setting sun.
A lone, injured pelican still thrives on carp
in Pool 3. At times, an egret swims
with him there. Or just a small flock
of pelicans appear, herding together to feed.
In the past, majestic swans
would glide through those waters.
The heron find their spots in all the pools,
but small numbers of egrets come and go.
An eagle builds a new nest farther from
our wandering eyes.
We miss that time so many migrations
converged: pelicans, geese, mallards.
The thriving flocks surrounded the car.
Today, we count the deer, their startled eyes
reflect what is.

This poem appears in the anthology Poetry Treasures 5: Small Pleasures.