Sentinels Around Us

In any place, at any time, there are sentinels.  Whether we notice them or not, they are there.
Watching, waiting, willing.
Some are creations of nature. Some of man.
All have their purpose and their place in time.

The solitary wolf seeks the shoreline and safety.
A sanctuary where he can rest after the hunt.
Ever wary.

The stallion poses in perpetual victory.
Under the mighty steed's watchful eye we witness Wolfe's triumph.
For a moment frozen in time, he lives.

Now tethered to the land, she guides her journeymen and sailors salers over a concrete sea.

The sentinel wall of the armoury ensures that the enemy will be spotted well in advance.
Military foresight, man before machine.
True. North. Strong.
Not Free.
They stand on guard.

What if these wall could talk?
They still watch and listen.
The silent sentinels speak volumes.



Like a moth to flame, I am drawn. I sense it and seek it.
First light, a welcome sigh of being. Of relief. I am.

Uplifting, strengthening. Fulfilling. Healing.

It pulls me in, beckoning, luring. Promising.
It sends me off in different directions. Pausing for thought. Guiding me.

Reflecting me. A moment in time.

Even in darkness, I seek the light. I want the light.

I find no comfort in darkness.
I have no curtains in my home.


Bits, Bites, Books, and Birds

Dear Readers,
This bloggy thing has been bothering me for awhile.
Have I said everything I've had to say? I don't think so. And people who have heard me rant on occasion would likely agree.
Has my muse left? Maybe. At least She appears to have been taking a leisurely walk about my mind, scratching here, sniffing there. Looking under rocks, poking her nose in places she shouldn't, and generally being absent from the frontal lobes.
Though recently, in the past week or so, she's  come knocking. Gently tapping me awake in the middle of the night. Presenting ridiculous things to think about, that once I fall back to sleep, I immediately forget. I awake to a wisp.
I've been circling the computer lately. Looking at it. Bringing up the blog. Checking for visitors or comments. None recent.
I miss them both.
But unless you put it out there, there is no there for people to come and visit.
So where has my there to put out gone? Or perhaps, the better question is not where it has gone, but why has it gone?
There are times I can't shut my mind off. It's firing on 8 cylinders, rocking and rolling over the events of the day, a bit of a book I've read, a bird I've just seen, a bite I've just taken -and I want to talk about it all.
But I can't. At least, I have been telling myself I can't because my LABEL is not inclusive enough.
Good god. I can't believe I just wrote that!
My marketing gene is trying to make a pitch in the middle of a presentation to my public

MY point is, that having called this blog "Featherbrained" I have defined it as a blog primarily about nature. And as a result I have met all of these amazing naturalists.
And I am not sure if they want to hear about things like The Day I Stuck Out My Thumb in Banff , or  Biffy Buffing is Not For Old People or Aunt Ethel Made Amazing Jam Buns or A Child's Version of Old Mother Hubbard, or My Favourite Meal Ever This Week, or....See what I mean? Not a thing about birds, or birding, or nature.
After researching many blogs on line, looking for a template that would allow me to be more multi-dimensional I came up empty, unless I choose to go the website route.
No, I don't.
So, gentle reader. Here's the deal.
I'm going to change this blog up a bit. Mix up the storyline. And write about whatever I feel like. I'll still call it Featherbrained..but perhaps on the non nature days, I'll provide a spoiler alert,so if you're not so inclined to read about The Lesson of Bertha Archer or whatever I choose to share, well, then you can just click on over to something or someone else. I won't mind, and I'll no longer feel guilty!

When you see a feather, it's about nature. When you don't? It's not.

                                                                    Hope you  choose to linger a little longer,