If you're interested in starting a mindful journaling practice, and working with some poems and…
It was a lazy afternoon ride from New York City last year, and I didn’t want to spend the hours looking at my cell phone. I’d left my earbuds at home too, so I sat there as we passed by the Hudson River on my way back to Albany and then to Vermont, just noticing. My husband had told me that I was likely to see a lot of birds along the river at that time, and he was right. I saw so many osprey and eagles that I couldn’t believe my eyes, and couldn’t believe that no one else on the train seemed to care! I wrote the following poem about the experience of seeing an eagle with his fresh kill perched on a log in one of the estuaries, and New York By Rail decided to publish it on the last page of their magazine, found in the seat pockets of every train that travels through NY and VT! The text of the poem is copied below:
From an Amtrak Train Along the Hudson
I saw a bald eagle perched on a log,
the beacon of his white head alerting me
to his presence in the estuary
where he stood with the writhing
silver body of a fish gripped tight
in talons that would not release
until his catch had exhausted itself.
He watched from a distance, undisturbed
as a much larger silver body slid by
on the tracks, and he seemed
to meet my gaze for an instant—
both of us hunting in our own ways
for something bright to bring home.