The sacred Pawnee place on the Kickatuus always moves me to poetize but even when we are tasked to botanize the land herself is poetry enough. After wandering deeply into woods then river bank to be scolded again by Kingfisher we ascended the holy hill to be forgiven by Bluebird. How he loves to bask on sunny April mornings! Our winter bluebirds have left us for more northern climes and our nesting pairs have freshly returned from somewhere south of here. They sang when the First Nations worshipped high on this place and like the Pawnee remain faithful still.
We will perhaps find them faithful farther down the watershed this Sunday at a woodsy place in Lancaster County. Let me know if that sounds good to you. Tree-frogs and Dutchman’s breeches, maybe downy violets in bloom, poetry for sure.