milk thread sutures

Cedar Waxwing photos from Friday at Billy Frank Jr. Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge.

As I sit amidst the last death throes of a falling empire, its leaders stripping the whole machine for parts, aiming to kill whoever, I watch a red-breasted nuthatch grab a black oil sunflower seed and fly away, grab another and fly away, grab another, another, hiding each in some crevice, keeping a thousand secrets. So the daylight winnows, leaving me and my loved ones adrift, staring down dim winter.

When I met Astra Horn she was living in a fallow cornfield. Sleeping under the stars, letting insects crawl in her hair as she slept. She woke up each morning to a woodpecker rattling into a telephone pole. I met her there one afternoon when I was young and she was old, but I returned to meet her there when I was old and she was young. The next time I went to the field she was ancient and I was a toddler, strayed from my mother's side in a nearby K-Mart parking lot that was there at the time, but was not present long before or after. I kept returning to the field at all times of day and night, decades and centuries, stars moving, ice ages decimating the corn field into stone, megafauna treading by, just missing the face of Astra Horn who was composed of molecular clusters that bonded to the side of a plant we have never named in the form of a slime mold we will never have a genus for. I was a lonely Paraceratherium crushing scrubby sage with my big flat feet, head wandering through the air as I caught the distant scent of fire. Our final meeting was me as an old woman and her as an old woman and I said nothing to her and she said nothing because there was no language at the time, but I made sounds all the same and she agreed, I could tell, because she put her fingers in my hair and pulled out a spider, which she ate before we kissed, for the protein it contained.

in the gutter are on their second clutch of nestlings, drain snake in the mail, I don't ever want to do dishes  in the shower again watching Princess Audrey Hepburn on seeflix.to, banged up work laptop balanced on a freepile chair looking forward to paid fmla if I can get the note I keep crying I’ve been bipolar forever but I just found out.

I say 'I need space,' and I go into space, where I admire, for a time, the horsehead nebula.

from the Hot Rat Summer trans art show in Seattle

Baby deer and mama from our yard

Caspian Tern and Brown Pelicans

Seen on 6/28 at Billy Frank Jr. Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge

If you followed me because of the HRT post I put up 12 years ago or whatever, don't listen to that advice, I deleted it years ago but didn't realize it would stay forever. I do not post about HRT anymore, because I'm not an expert. The link above is a lot of very well informed research you should use instead of listening to random bitches on tumblr.