Wild Inkling: American Bittern Painted with sumac, acorns, copper oxide, violets, grapevine and avocado.

Coming home from Kingston, I saw my first ever American Bittern. They’re a fascinating bird, if tricky to spot. Though they sing the most extraordinary song – it sounds just like a sink drain clearing! I can’t guess the exact evolutionary purpose of that. But I guess it never hurts to advertise your plumbing skills.

Sadly, this bittern was not difficult to see. It was not hidden in the tall marsh grasses, not camouflaged in wetlands. It had been killed by a car, and lay dead in the road. I pulled over and placed its beautiful lifeless body in the soft grass, so the scavengers who came to claim it would not risk the same fate.

I decided not to be angry about the world that deals out this end. Choosing instead to think of all the people I know who care, and care deeply – who freely share their knowledge and love of the natural world, who pour their passion into protection, who brave the politics. Who persevere.

That very morning I knew there were people out participating in a spring birding marathon (Northumberland Land Trust), and others who lead “fledgling birder” outings (Willow Beach Field Naturalists), and others who work to make the outdoors inclusive, safe and accessible for all (Birdability).

And then I came home and asked my birder friends to help me identify this bird I myself don’t know well enough.

And I used my wild inks to render this bird as it would have been in life.

"Remember me in stories -- not the first time we met, not the last, a time in between."

And I submitted my opposition to Bill 5, and its race to annihilate the natural world and everyone who lives in it – ourselves included.

Despair is always on the table. It ghosts every decision, haunts every loss. But, like a bittern, we can choose instead to clear our throat with a few big draining glugs, and use our beautiful voices to speak for everything that really matters.

Have a lovely long weekend folks 💚🐦💚

(Quote from Gloria Mundi, by Michael Kleber-Diggs)