Chris, Untitled, 2014
Was it real? That bird, it passed right in front of me—deep blue, too big to be a bunting, I’m sure, not a jay (no crest no white flash.) Seeing is not believing, seeing as how no one else saw it, and I’m no birder. But: blue as a twilit sky, sidelong gold-flecked glance then pulling, pulling long deep shadows behind, across the creek to home.