Bill Kimzey

The lake wants to still and reflect the blue sky. Why does the sky breathe and disturb it so much?

high in the sky smoke from the great fires far south of here yellows the light look in the shadows low between the firs the dark places agai...

Above the treetops two hawks or maybe falcons fly south with purpose straight into the setting winter sun. They join the others become crows...

A rustle in the canopy too muffled for a squirrel. I find red in my binoculars. A crest. A pileated woodpecker resolves from the green silen...

A still day in early August. I’m cool in the shade of an old maple on a good bench to sit for birds. Chickadees are chatting but they can’t ...

No matter how hard I try to convince myself that beyond that spot of water is the Orient way west past Hurricane Ridge across the ...

All the talk about a shady picnic bench and a slight breeze keeping gnats at bay, is it about birds or my personal comfort? The sun’s been...