Hummingbird and Trail Hazards

Posted by on Jul 6, 2017 in Blog | No Comments

Anyone who knows me, or those kind enough to follow my social media posts, knows that I am an avid trail runner, and am so happy when I am out in nature. I find it inspiring, rejuvenating, exhilarating, and peaceful. I am pretty much always in awe, even when it is the same route I have done many times. That is not to say that every run is easy, but even when it’s rough going, I am so thankful to be there. This gratitude could be because I’ve had my fair share of injuries over the years and have had to learn patience to get back to the trails, or perhaps it is simply because nature is my religion.

My current creative direction in painting, photography and poetry is all inspired by nature. I use small details and experiences from my own life to try and speak to a larger story.

This morning on my run, I was so pleased to see my hummingbird friend again — it was the second time this week! We first met in May and now I am starting to lose count of our encounters. I wrote a poem after our second meeting which you can read below. Additionally, I was dodging a lot of lizards on my descent this morning and so I thought I would also share my lizard-inspired poem written a few weeks ago. Enjoy…


I was startled when you first appeared
At the peak.
How did you fly so high, flapping to infinity?

No summit celebration awaited.
A glorious flower to befriend, you thought
Me in my bright yellow shirt.
I thought, a giant bee in my ear,
Blushing my manners.

Thrilled I was upon your return
The following week, looking
With a friend to witness
Your fourfold appearance, my joy
A sign I bundled up and took


Trail Hazards

It was a somber affair,
The meeting of the lizards
To discuss the untimely fate
Of one of their own.

“Coyote!” said the small one,
“Too many remaining remains,” said the old one.

Humans, likely by wheel it was deemed,
Fast, spinning, unacknowledged.
The sun blissfully penetrating the insides of the leathery exterior, prior.
Subsequent, the sun rotting the flesh, soon departed.

“What now?” said the young one.
“Proceed as usual,” said the calm one.

Nevertheless, that day cautious, fearful
Fixated on many mortal things.

Not a good way to grow old
It was decided, by the hopeful one,
Versed by the wise one.

Thereupon with a deep exhale,
The sun blissfully penetrated the insides of the leathery exterior, present
And the day was lived.