For the past decade, severe wind storms have battered the little community I live in on the Pacific West Coast.
Leg-thick tree limbs have busted roofs, littered lawns, flattened bushes, and felled old trees in our adjoining forest.
Our solution is simple. During fall, we hang up a hummingbird feeder, seed feeders for larger birds, and a suet feeder for winter. We nourish the most vulnerable creatures of the forest, without discouraging their natural ability to forage.
The small, bright glow of hope of our hummingbird friends inspired this poetic honouring:
Shimmering red tweed on green
of our tiny guest
wings beat in time
as needle dips deep
into the slit of our offered feeder’s
yellow plastic petals
your forest retreat thinned
climate peril windstorms
our serving a small buffer
against a grievous global surge
of natural tragedies
one shock absorber stands firm