Leather winged bats fly above the deck
as I exercise, facing east, facing
the rising sun which fulfilled
its promise to return.
I look up to a tree where yesterday
a crow sized woodpecker gave
a call like a tropical bird,
drilled the trunk for carpenter ants.
The forest is fragmented, with
deer reproducing too fast,
browsing everything in sight.
Neither wild nor ornamental shrub is safe.
I heard of how wolves have
returned to Yellowstone.
The wolves are killing deer and
overgrazed forests are coming back.
Wolves are killing coyotes and
small mammals are returning.
The rebounding population of beavers
has constructed dams on streams and rivers.
The rivers are slowing down, the wetlands
support birds and diverse populations of animal life.
Not long ago, I read of how conservation groups
bought water rights on the Colorado River.
This allowed some water to remain in the channel.
The once dry streambed of the Colorado
is returning to life. The marshes at its exit
to the Sea of Cortez have regenerated,
restoring the nesting grounds of fish.
Marine life is coming back,
even as we see the demise of coral reefs.
One small fragment of restoration
gives me one small fragment of hope.