What an eclectic mix in this month's issue! It's great to see what comes through the e-mail during the month. I never know what will show up, but it's usually good. Thanks to all of you readers and writers for making Seeker a relatively easy magazine to put together. Now, as I wrote to Harry B., perhaps they could find the procrastinator gene…and figure out how to turn it off.
Yesterday was a luscious day of rain in Denver, and this morning's walk along Big Dry Creek tasted good…the air relatively clean and clear, the grass definitely green and shooting up, the pure white terns with their black caps angling over the pond. The other night I watched eleven white pelicans come over the ridge and fly down the creek, with their rhythmic gliding and flapping, sometimes in unison, sometimes two at a time.
Perhaps Pelicans Perhaps Pelicans Fly out of the dusky sky Scoping the water of pond and creek Gliding, then lifting their wings and beating W's Then gliding Gliding Gliding White bodies turning With the flowing water Through the flowing air Some wings will beat While others rest The few lifting the all And then magically All are at rest on The cushion of air White velvet aeroplanes For seconds gliding in unity Until to catch one's self, wings flap again These ponds seem not to Their liking – but after all, Why are pelicans here in the rain Shadow of the Rockies Perhaps Pelicans know
Truly,
Cherie
Editor