Everyone has a bird story as memorable as their first heartbreak, and as such, they want to tell it to who might know about birds or heartbreaks. I happen to know about both. Truth is, no one wants to know about your heartbreak or your birds, that’s why I write this blog. For me. MyContinue reading “Heartbreak and Birds”
Author Archives: rebeca
You can’t have Elvis
I will never understand men and their seasons. Unlike a bird, who diligently sticks to the clock of nature, men’s clock is dictated by pure selfishness. I wish I could say it was dictated purely by the need to want to fuck, damn, wouldn’t that be grand, then we’d all be on the same page,Continue reading “You can’t have Elvis”
What stage of grief is Birdsong?
My therapist says I’m going through all the stages of grieving. Honestly, I don’t know what the stages are, I just deal with things as they come. When I start to cry without warning, I go hide, when I suddenly get angry, I do the same. When I feel haunted, too. Before spring, I feltContinue reading “What stage of grief is Birdsong?”
Riverside
If I told you the river here is my one and only love, would you believe me? Would you even think it possible? When I met the rodeo cowboy last winter, I think my heart mistook him for the river on the first day of spring with its blooms and birdsong and the promise ofContinue reading “Riverside”
Flightless Feathers
I came home to find a juvenile House Finch dead at my back door. I know it wasn’t either of my animals because they were inside all day. “It must have been one of the cats who comes around.” I told The Hurricane. “It must have killed it at my feeder and left it atContinue reading “Flightless Feathers”
Cabin Built for One
I know I still love living up here alone on a mountain, because when I was on a bus riding through Italy, the farms on the Tuscan hillside fascinated me. I marveled at the space and land they had. Then I would remind myself I have as much land if not more. For a suspendedContinue reading “Cabin Built for One”
before the next fire season
…Sold my coat when I hit Spokane, bought myself a hard pack of cigarettes in the early morning rain… …and I texted you, “I’m back from Italy.” You never replied. When I left I asked if you were going to miss me, and you’d said, “Of course. I’ll just be waiting for you to getContinue reading “before the next fire season”
The snow eventually melted
I missed you and extra chingo today and I wasn’t sure why. The isolation of being snowed in? Me just making my way though the grief cycle? I looked out the window and I knew why I was missing you; I was snow for you, and I would have stayed snow forever, falling and collectingContinue reading “The snow eventually melted”
The Birder in Me
This story first appeared in “Western Tanager” Volume 87 Number 4 in 2021. We were at the Alamo River Wetlands counting birds. The other birders and I walked armed with our binoculars and scopes with no room to think about anything but the birds and the storm that was fast-approaching. As we heard different birds’Continue reading “The Birder in Me”
But I didn’t cry this time when it came on…
A few weeks ago I got it in my head that I needed to leave the rodeo cowboy, because, really, I should have done it long ago. You can only be dicked around for so long until you say enough. So today, with all the pain in my heart and in my twat, I droppedContinue reading “But I didn’t cry this time when it came on…”