blogging the bog cranberries

harvesting the wild today
as november 9th weather co-operates,
two stones throw from lake superior.

red berries in standing water,
probably enough vitamin C in this bog
to nourish the entire hemisphere

grey jay by any other name

Grey colour predominates
as tamarack needles
paint the earth gold and fade.
November turns the sun away from this hemisphere.
The further north, the greater that denial is.

If I ever entertain doubts about having relocated
to the north country, thoughts vanish with the return of
Wisakedejak, the whisky jack
Canada Jay, the camp robber,
Perisoreus canadensis, the grey jay

As the sun dips, jays leave their green forest boreal home.
Wisakedejak and her lifelong mate cache food each day
in the clips of spruce bark. Skillful and smart, ghostly and gifted,
they sweep out from the treetops,
to engage humans like no other species.

Landing on your hand,
taking the bread from a hatbrim,
or pausing to look you deep in the eye,
there can be little doubt of why you chose this place,
or why it chooses you.

jeffrey riordan hinich, copyright 2010