Of Birds and Trees Strong chinook winds have driven me inside. From my window, I see a young male blackbird, its eye rings still dark, perched on a mountain ash. The tree, also young, is leafless, but bright red clusters of berries grace its bare limbs like ripe ornaments for a festival of fall.

The tree, the bird, swing back and forth to the wind's irregular rhythm. The bird's neck extends and shortens, easily keeping his balance. Eyes so alert, the head bends down, first slowly, then quickly snatching a little fruit, swallowing it whole. Then he's off, another tree.

Birds don't stay long in one place. Or is this just the way of birds and trees? One must do the work of staying put, roots firmly grounded in rocky soil, new fruit each year; while the other, flying freely to unknown places, carries with him the seeds of falls yet to come.

(Photo: Mountain Ash, South-facing Window;  (Sorbus aucuparia) The Alps;

Click on window to see The Open Window, November and December)