Feral friends,

Seems that the confluence of the Blood Moon, lunar eclipse, Sauin, going off daylight-savings time and not to mention the midterm elections has dithered and kerfuffled many among us greatly. But those of us devoted to rewildling the soul and the world around us take joy in earlier moons and later dawns, the rhythms of day-lengths and the waxing of lunes and of course the trading of bluebirds and changing of leaves. If you are just too busy to measure your days (and your life!) thusly, perhaps a little time in the woods or in an autumn meadow might be just the thing. Leave your phone behind. Read a wild poem or write one.

Consult the moon,

Jack Phillips

Trading Bluebirds

My friend reported hey my bluebirds are back and lest you think no big deal they were here all summer same goes for robins sometimes sapsuckers – but no. These winter squatters northern feather-peddlers boreal storytellers fill the bird-shaped spaces when Sauin travels to Solstice (and Gaia warms her bottom) with the southering sun.

_{Photos: Eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis), winter resident in Fremont County Iowa. Summer bluebird tending a nest box in Washington County Nebraska. Photos by Troy Soderberg. Prose poem by Jack Phillips.}