There’s nothing better
than boys watching birds
with binoculars.
By boys, I mean men.
The squint of recognition,
the grin that says
Check out the breast on that one.
Scintillating flash of green,
flamboyant bit of flame
these fabulous kings of the air
all dazzle and glint.
Flirty words flick
from tongues like
fluffy-backed tit-babbler
yellow-bellied sapsucker
white-breasted nuthatch
pretty little dickcissel.
Sibley replaces Playboy,
pages warped, dog-eared
on the red-shafted flicker,
cheek dabbed with rouge
arching tongue
probes the bark
thrusts its beak toward
something hard.
There’s nothing better
than boys watching birds.
Because if you’ve ever
cradled a hummingbird
in the palm of your hand
then you know the tremble
of beauty, light as petals,
that makes you believe
we are all made of something
gentle
waiting to be held
to be beheld
with wonder.
—
Devon Fredericksen is an independent environmental science journalist and the author of several books, including How to Camp in the Woods and 50 Classic Day Hikes of the Eastern Sierra. Her work has been published in The Atlantic, High Country News, bioGraphic, Yes!, Guernica, and Switchyard, among other publications. She lives in Portland, Oregon.
