The State Bird of Wyoming

An idea woke me this morning. It was 6:17 AM, Mountain Daylight Time. I thought the idea was the little bird that likes to peck holes in the soft plaster just under the eaves of the bunkhouse, but it was and it wasn't.

It was that bird all right–a junco I think, trying to make a nest by acting like a woodpecker –but it was also an idea I had that had nothing to do with a bird.

First, permit me to thank the bird for the part it played in my waking, for my waking preceded the idea that woke me.

The idea was this: that the only reason anyone writes poetry these days is to achieve privacy, and that's why there's so much of it, there being so little that's private these days.

I know, it's not much of an idea, but it's the beginning of something, a real thought to follow up on even if I'm the only one interested, and I am.

Meantime, a high of 45 is expected for Wapiti, Wyoming today, slightly overcast with intermittent sunshine, a good day for birds to fly and for me to stay in the cabin and have more ideas, like this one:

Up here in Wyoming I hear nothing, there's nothing to hear; it seems that I'm alone, the only one living on this side of the hill.