Brown Creeper on our back deck in Kennebunk Maine.

There is a poem.

Day Poems 2018
February 1

Carol called me out to the kitchen in
the middle of my qi gong this morning.
Snow falling and a Brown Creeper had
flown into the back deck sliding door.
It lay there in fresh white powder and
the cold a foot out on the deck. I ran
for a shoe box, thinking I would bring
it in so it did not freeze before it could
recover. So tiny the beak, like a delicate
nut pick, or a dentist’s tool, so intricate
the brown and white, black edged pattern
of the feathers. I opened the deck door,
still in my tee shirt and shorts, and a pair
of winter, fur-lined crocs, and stepped
out. As soon as I bent to pick up the bird
it came up off its side and onto its feet,
and the eye popped open. It shuffled
an inch or so forward, so I knew it was
alright. I went for my camera then and
got a few shots of it while it rested there.
It didn’t fly off, so I thought maybe it still
needed some warmth and bent again to pick
it up. My hand was an inch from it, and I
was thinking of how banders handle birds,
getting myself ready, when it it found its
wings and sailed up over the deck rail and
away to the maples at the edge of the yard.
I am sure the bird did not appreciate the
encounter with the glass, but I certainly
appreciated my encounter with the Creeper.
I returned to my exercise uncommonly
energized, full of positive qi, ready to
work it through my body and the day.

Sony RX10iv at 400 and 600mm. Program mode. 1/250th @ ISO 640 and 800 @ f4. Processed in Polarr and assembled in FrameMagic.