edges

edges are my place. 

i breathe like i belong here.

i remember my selfself

here in the edge.

i grow quieter 

i grow complete.

i begin to see how it is to be

a human being. 

this muddled woman, 

of mixed up organization

of strong heart

of heat

light

and, let's face it,

longing and ardor.

yesterday was may day.

now

it's spring.

edges/ecotones

driving home from work i am always getting over the day. 

i often have a headache. 

it's a 28 mile trip. 

i realize that i drive, gladly, rejoicing, into an ecotone. 

every day. 

and i live here, in an ecotone. 

and i am an edge person. 

edges. 

ecotones.

john green first taught me about edges. i audited his class in natural history, 

and i remember him talking about the richness where two places meet. 

edges he said with delight.

coyotes and foxes travel edges, birds flourish, feed, and nest there, insects trill, 

and a huge variety of flora. 

in the edge. the ecotone.

terry tempest williams taught me the term ecotone. 

the "proper" word for john's edges. 

both are amazing naturalists. 

i think i am destined for edges. 

my place is on the edge of the adirondack forest preserve and the st. lawrence river valley. 

an ecotone. 

it's hilly and farmy, a mixture of wetland, rocky soil, 

beaver altered landscape, woods and meadow. 

it's beautiful. 

tonight i saw snow, wild cloudshines, and a late sunset with a light show.

and i heard my favorite of all spring birds. 

a woodcock. 

preent.....preent.....preent 

welcome home.

oh, and woodcock? 

they spend their days in the edges,

do their mating dance in the twilight

first in the meadow, 

then circling flight,

then back in the meadow.