Wetlands

Preoccupied with grief over the oil I hear is poisoning the Gulf of Mexico, I set out for Sauvie Island, just twenty minutes outside metropolitan Portland, to love what I can: the pure, sweet wet land, alive with blackbirds, cranes, ducks, frogs, and creatures I don't know how to recognize: creatures doing what they do when they are not being smothered by poison. There they were--some stalking on long legs, others skittering over reeds, some nest-building or mating, all chattering to each other in many languages, informing each other about seeds and tasty bits, busy about their natural lives. I strolled, listening, for an hour or two, and I loved this place with everything I have and am.