Hunter-Gatherers and Their Dingo in the Spring Woods

We were made to do this, to look for the tiny red dot in the film of green

that resolves to scarlet tanager

to track the twang of a tiny banjo to a fairy high in the bare branches

 fanning his miniature tail, stringing together invectives for us as we stumble below

We were made to give these things names.  Why we settled on "blue-gray gnatcatcher" for this lovely sprite, this elegant pin-bill, only heaven knows.

We were made to hunt Easter eggs, of a blue no tablet dropped into vinegar could approach.

We were meant to be searching for firepink, just for the joy of finally finding it, of soaking in a red so intense it makes us shiver.

Bill finds the first morel.

And I get so excited I put my thumb over the lens.

And Chet Baker wants in the picture so badly he nearly treads upon it.

and gets his feelings hurt when I keep pushing him away.

But you always want me in your pictures. Until now. I know that mushroom is there. I will not step on it. You need to take a picture of me with that mushroom. Me with my white eyebrows and a mushroom. Because that would be a good picture.