In the early stillness
when sky is white
above the ridgeline,
hollow coos
of Roadrunners
spill off dark hillsides,
a sprinkle of sounds
almost like a song
for themselves—
or for all of us
who have endured
these years of drought
to rise early yet
to carry on
upon this earth.
Blessed are the birds—
may their gods
be ours.
drycrikjournal 
And may you soon have rain. I love your roadrunner photos, since we don’t see them in Chicagoland. 🙂
janet
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We’re down to taking it a week at a time as we move closer to a chance of rain. But we’re enjoying a high cycle of roadrunners these past few years, and to hear them calling in the morning is truly beautiful.
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Amen.
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