Poetic Migration

The March Equinox occurred on March 20, 2010. The sun shone directly on the equator and nearly all of planet Earth had an equal amount of day and night. The word equinox comes from the Latin and means ‘equal night’. The equinoxes occur in March and September and the Spring equinox is called the Vernal equinox.  A way to use that word according to the dictionary would be “vernal migratory movements”. As wordsmiths, we consider that one helluva gorgeous phrase. Right now, birders and ornithology buffs across the country are tracking the migration of Ruby-Throated hummingbirds. These birds not only sport a dashing red stripe on their neck, but they are also attracted to items that are red and will swoop down to investigate ruby-red movement as needed.

– Lori Huskey

In her poem, Hummingbird, Elaine Terranova writes of the mid-air hoverers:

The hummingbird too—

only a moth with a beak—
Have I ever heard it hum?

Yet it’s everywhere welcome,
coaxed by red flowers, even sugar water,
for we are devious, in our desires.

Now that we have your attention, you’re probably wondering about the mating patterns of ruby-throated hummingbirds. Well,  according to a Web site for hummingbird nuts — we mean enthusiasts — “courtship is very brief”, which in human terms is really a nice way of saying hummingbirds are promiscuous, one-night-stand tarts. That said, today we encourage you to enjoy the extra daylight by grabbing a pair of binoculars and checking out the flying friends migrating to your area. And, since you now have an equal amount of night time, why not put your own beak in a book and read more poetry. May we suggest Joy Harjo’s poem on the Equinox.

EQUINOX

By Joy Harjo

I must keep from breaking into the story by force
for if I do I will find myself with a war club in my hand
and the smoke of grief staggering toward the sun,
you nation dead beside you.

I keep walking away though it has been an eternity
and from each drop of blood
springs up sons and daughters, trees,
a mountain of sorrows, of songs.

I tell you this from the dusk of a small city in the north
not far from the birthplace of cars and industry.
Geese are returning to mate and crocuses have
broken through the frozen earth.

Soon they will come for me and I will make my stand
before the jury of destiny. Yes, I will answer in the clatter
of the new world, I have broken my addiction to war
and desire. Yes, I will reply, I have buried the dead

and made songs of the blood, the marrow.

Video: Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds