Category: wildlife

have mercy.

On By ©️K.T. 2025In agraria, barn swallows, birds, Death, dirt road chronicles, dying, Earthling, fauna, Free Palestine, Funerary, funerary portraiture, Gaza, Genocide, holocaust, july, kill lists, kin, Life and Death, maternity, mortality, Mother, Mother God, Motherhood, ornithology, outer rural, Palestine, ruralia, threshold, wildlife, ZionismLeave a comment

in mid-July, the summer-resident barn swallows who had successfully raised and launched four fledglings by June 23rd, 2025, attempted to raise a second brood;

while i am not absolutely sure if it was the same set of parents or another in the barn swallow community that utilized the nest — as there is a collective of more than a dozen swallows that visits and assists in feeding sometimes too — it is most likely they are the same parent pair;

this is the second summer the barn swallows have nested here in my barn — using last year’s well-constructed nest which they attached to one of the joists like a balcony cantilevered on a Chicago highrise;

i began leaving the overhead barn door open when i first noticed them circling and investigating the barn a few years back; and i was thrilled last year when they began construction of their nest — they were so very welcomed and wanted here — i now know to leave the barn door raised from mid May through July to give them access.

the first brood of four swallows,
not quite fledged, but stretching their wings in the safety of the barn, June 2025
Continue reading “have mercy.” →
Featured

on Christmas eve

On By ©️K.T. 2025In anthropocene, apartheid, birds, Capitalism, Chicago, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Cities, december, earthlings, fauna, flora, kin, Lament, Lamentations, Poem, poetry, Proof of Life, son, wildlife1 Comment

i traveled a river of concrete in a machine,
you traveled an ocean of air in a machine,
babies crying, inconsolably, you said
i said, eustachean tubes aren’t meant for 30,000 feet.

i am not meant for this,
neither are you,
neither are they.

not the opposite of joy
on Christmas eve
but the false pursuit of it
whatever is actually contrary to it
even if we don’t know it when we see it.
even if we refuse to know it when we see it.

if i allow myself to cry, he will see it on my face.

Continue reading “on Christmas eve” →

399

On By ©️K.T. 2025In anthropocene, author, autumn, bears, bruin, Crone, Cronehood, Death, Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, endings, fauna, Grand Teton, grandmother, june, kin, kinship, Lament, Lamentations, Life, Life and Death, Mother, National Parks, photograph, Poem, wildlifeLeave a comment

The Queen, Mother and Grandmother Grizzly Bear,

the iconic Matriarch of Grand Teton National Park & the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem

Monday morning, June 22, 2020,
Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming, US
The iconic and prolific female grizzly bear [399] — a mother and grandmother was in forage with her own eldest adult daughter [610] — also a mother, along with her cubs and grand cubs.

399, pictured here, who should be referred to respectfully as Grand Mother Bear, at the age of 24, in Spring of 2020 birthed four cubs [a rare, large litter no matter the age of the grizzly, but at 24, was truly astounding] was with 610, whom should be called Daughter Bear, who birthed two cubs as well.
All but two of the six cubs were mostly hidden by the deep sagebrush and dense fog.

What wild majesty to behold.
Lodged in my mind’s eye forevermore.

photo by: author

“Grizzly 399” is gone,

and this Autumn, and last, and every season in between have required so much Auden

Continue reading “399” →

Hope

On By ©️K.T. 2025In autumn, earthlings, Emily Dickinson, fauna, flora, kinship, Poem, poetry, reciprocity, symbiosity, wildlifeLeave a comment

one can tell a little
maybe even, a lot

about what “hope” means to someone

as the garden’s fruits and blooms
are winding down,
on verge of frost,
light or hard

in October

will they glean the last remnant of the apples and pears from the trees for sauce, butter or crisp

or will they leave them be
for
the deer,
rabbits
raccoons,
possums
or marmots

will they cut the last of their garden’s
snapdragons, borage,
zinnias, marigolds, amaranth
and bring them indoors to fill vases for their temporary gaze

or will they leave them be
that,
an errant
monarch,
red admiral,
honeybee,
moth
or hummingbird

may find
a hibernation,
migration,
or last supper
meal

a sweet sustenance
an oasis lifeline
a traveling mercy

Continue reading “Hope” →

come back, come back

On By ©️K.T. 2025In agraria, aviary, birds, bucolia, crone chronicles, dirt road chronicles, Essay, goodbye city life, hummingbird, Kahlo, Lament, ornithology, poemo, ruralia, Spiritive, Spirrative, wildlifeLeave a comment
hummingbirds where have you gone?
ADDENDUM: the hummingbirds did come back, and as of September 8, 2024 10:00 AM EDT, they are still here.

mid-late april, optimistic
early may, expectant
mid may, consternation

meticulously,
i sanitize the vessels,
bases and perches
soaking and fastidiously brushing the red and yellow flower parts to clean them of all gunk and lodged debris
i employ two, simple, pinched-waist, glass hummingbird feeders //
there are more beautiful, ornamental, more expensive or cheaper feeders available,
but this design functions best/ i am a seven year veteran of hummingbird joy.

age-old recipe for hummingbird feeder nectar:

1 part pure cane sugar.

PURE. CANE. SUGAR.

to

4 parts water.

the end.

not beet sugar, not organic sugar,
nor turbinado, nor raw, never brown sugar

this so very important – other sugars are too susceptible to mold, to bacteria, or contain too much iron in the form of molasses.

pure, white, refined and granulated cane sugar, chemically and nutritionally, most closely approximates natural flower nectar

never ever, use store-bought nectar mix* or pre-mix*;
*and when in a store that sells that toxic shit, bury the packets or hide the bottles behind other merchandise on the shelf — just as when i spot Clinton, Kissinger, Amy Schumer, Dubya, or Sheryl Sandberg non-fiction fictions on the shelf at bookstores or big box stores — i flip that tripe backwards and upside down
so, again:

age-old recipe for hummingbird feeder nectar:

1 part cane sugar

to

4 parts fresh water,

i use pristine well water, here: i am so very fortunate: no chlorine, no fluoride just elements and minerals, no water treatment except for a sediment filter

these two simple ingredients vigorously shaken together, not stirred/
just like my homemade margarita with ice
in the same one-quart glass mason jar

i check the feeders
throughout the day
i obsess, i pray, in my own way

first incantation songs
then lamentation songs

a carpenter bee tricks my ear while i am on my knees digging in the garden

was that her? is she back? are they back?

no, that wasn’t;
no, they’re not.

i google:

“do hummingbirds return to the same summer nesting and feeding grounds each year?”
&
“how long do hummingbirds live?

Continue reading “come back, come back” →

Feed the Wildlife! a radical imperative (& request)

On By ©️K.T. 2025In crone chronicles, Crone Consciousness, Cronehood, dirt road chronicles, Earthling, earthlings, from the inner city to outer rural, ki, kin, kinship, planetary hospice, reciprocity, symbiosity, wildlifeLeave a comment


please FEED THE WILDLIFE! if you have means to do so — to help our Earthling kin survive and thrive in the extreme temperatures and conditions of winter and summer — and during fall and spring migration

why is this radical?

because we have been instilled and warned to not do this!

but we now need to feed the wildlife we share habitat with — precisely because we’ve destroyed so much of their own habitat — and their preferred and once-abundant wild food and water sources

(but please only set out food for those wild kin who visit or inhabit your yards, balconies, patios or city parks – still, never feed our more-than-human kin in wilderness, or national, federal, state or county parks, forests, natural areas or preserves)

A charcuterie board for resident Crows
in their favorite spot to feast — the stone slab footprint of a former barn.

Crows are very clean and considerate
more-than-human kin— they prefer to wash their food with water and to wait for their entire family to assemble before eating.
Continue reading “Feed the Wildlife! a radical imperative (& request)” →

deer hunting season | regular firearm, November 15 – 30, 2023, Michigan, U.S.

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Animals, Ceasefire, deer, deer hunting, Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, ecocide, fauna, Gaza, Genocide, holocaust, hunters, hunting, hunting season, ki, kill lists, kin, kinship, Life and Death, November, Palestine, Philosophy, planetary hospice, Poem, Tradition As Violence, Tradition Is Violence, wildlife, ZionismLeave a comment

the gunshot
crisp, startling
a radiating crackle
floating on the unusually warm autumn air

my dog bolts for the house, and once inside, takes cover under the desk – this is a natural response to explosives

fear, confusion, rage, sorrow course through my marrow — we are made of the same stuff

then i remember that deer-stalking-luring-and-killing with a gun season started today

i’d seen the dignified six-point buck head south earlier,
the same direction of the blast / i realize that he may be dead, now

then i remember that i haven’t seen the
doe and her playful and curious fawns
in over a month’s time

on my way to the highway entrance ramp,
i avoid the main roads
where the bodies of two deer lay dead
a half mile apart
/ i pretend they can’t be, that they aren’t my familiars /

the deer always seem to be lying just barely off the road

do they collapse and die there identically — or does someone drag them there by their legs or antlers; are there protocols for this?
what does the weight of a dead deer body or dead human body feel like in the hands? are the dead heavier? would i be able to drag a deer or human body? maybe — in my heyday
i have only ever held dead rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish in my own two hands

then i remember that our first dog was euthanized at home, in the back yard, in the June Sun, but it was not me who lifted and carried his body away / why didn’t i carry him? back then, i was in my strength heyday.

Continue reading “deer hunting season | regular firearm, November 15 – 30, 2023, Michigan, U.S.” →

The Murder of an August Meadow

On By ©️K.T. 2025In August, Crone, crone chronicles, dirt road chronicles, ki, kin, Lament, Lamentations, plant beings, Poem, poetry, summer, symbiosity, wildlifeLeave a comment

full bloom,
milkweed, goldenrod, chicory,
aster,
thistle or teasel — i don’t know
they’re 7, 8, 9, feet tall
their leaf cups full of collected dew, or rain

the meadow is just all

give give give.

in fifteen minutes,
give or take,


all, gone
beneath a tractor blade

take, take, take,

take.

Continue reading “The Murder of an August Meadow” →

the mourning doves

On By ©️K.T. 2025In earthlings, human non-beings, hunters, hunting, ki, kin, Poem, poetry, wildlifeLeave a comment

i still surprise them
even after nearly six years of quiet-yet-unstealthy,
devotion to them

they’ve never once held their roost or kept their forage
upon my careful intrusion, my neutral presence
to maybe know of me
to maybe trust of me

their survival instinct is so strong
but i still take umbrage,
playful, but umbrage, nonetheless

then i remember Nemerov’s words about their feathers
in our caps, our pillows, our coats
“The Distances They Keep,”
then i remember Kimmerer’s words about
the aweing ubiquity and incredible extinction of the Omimi,
Martha the Last, died 109 years ago come September,
then i read how happy fields of sunflowers are cultivated to serve as bait traps for dove hunters at my beloved Starved Rock – after all the lovely fall engagement and high school photo shoots wind down,
and of those who cruelly suggest their flesh is quite delicious

there is no honorable harvest among the descendants of thieves, of colonizers, of settlers, of “homesteaders” — i know this.

so, my god, yes,

stay shy, stay distant, dear doves,

there are many reasons, that i stay shy, stay distant, and in mourning too, but none as good as theirs

addendum poem:

“dove,”
what a lovely name for a gentle bird
what a lovely name for a newly-born girl
what a terrible name for a woman in this world

Continue reading “the mourning doves” →

the May plow

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, ecocide, Hospice, Poem, poetry, spring, telepathy, wildlifeLeave a comment
the beautiful spring day that the fields are first plowed for the season is heartrending
the privacy, peace and space that non-human animals had on the barren 80 acres for the last six months is gone within minutes and hours

on the day they plow
the fields clear of last year’s stover
i stay quiet and invisible, indoors

there is a seen and unseen frantic attempt at evacuation, an exodus of

snakes, turtles, frogs, toads, rabbits, moles, voles, possums, weasels, marmots, skunks, raccoons, squirrels, mice, rats,

evicted without notice, again

geese and sandhill crane nests destroyed

over-wintered graves defiled

and newly-born deer crushed, plowed over and under

/this destruction, all,

for corn to fatten-up confined and tortured

pigs, cows, chickens, turkeys, salmon, catfish, tilapia

for human appetite, gluttony/

death eaters!

if i just stay quiet,
quieter than the snake and mole i saw yesterday,
if i just stay inside, unseen, all day ‘til Sun’s set, like the possum i saw last night,
then kin may seek refuge, find sanctuary here

to catch their breath

some of us have forgotten that they too breathe

and feel fear,

and scream, wail, and mourn

run!!! come, run here!!!
stay right here, please, the roads to west and south also bring death!

i put all my faith into telepathy today

the gulls arrive
chasing and taunting the tractor driver,

he’s no farmer
his hands literally never touch soil or seed

a machine operating a machine guided by satellite

if only the gulls or crows would pluck out his eyes when he dismounts

if only, i would.

Continue reading “the May plow” →

Her Light, her light

On By ©️K.T. 2025In moon, Poem, poetry, wildlifeLeave a comment

it’s mid evening
east of The Lake
and the night is dawning
like a second morning

the Full Moon’s light
in a clearer sky
gleams through the generous panes
of this blessed, old green house

Moon’s rise / Her Light

February’s Snow Moon is glowing
in a familiar dance with her beloved Earth//


Sun, their invisible chaperone, is voyeur to their touchless, perfect tango

a family of four deer
mother and children, i think/
are gleaners here tonight
while i consume their Moon play

silent and sitting in the dark, i admire:
coat, tallow, hooves and warm flow of blood
is all that’s between them
and this howling wind and frozen ground

let me mimic their resilience, integrity
i’ve been so weak, so broken this winter
a fractioned shadow, i am disintegrating, disappearing / my light given or grifted away

Continue reading “Her Light, her light” →
Featured

residuum

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Earthling, ki, kin, Life and Death, nature, Poem, poetry, reciprocity, Survival, symbiosity, wildlife, WinterLeave a comment
“The Distances They Keep”, Howard Nemerov, the blue swallows, 1967

this is no time
to evict
centipedes,
spiders,
the occasional, lone
boxelder bug,
dozens of out-of-season ladybird beetles
or
the almost-always odorless stinkbugs

from
our houses

to do so now means certain death, outside

Continue reading “residuum” →