Category Archives: Fang & Claw

Morning’s Caw



Ravensong

Each morning, they gather,
a council of shadow wings
against the pale rise of dawn.

They do not sing—
they declare,
sharp and guttural,
words I cannot know
but feel in my chest,
where night dreams
still linger.

Black eyes glint like secrets,
like the edges of things
forgotten
or yet to come.

They hop and nod,
conferring with dry earth,
lifting their shoulders
as if shrugging off the weight of the sky.

I wonder if they wait for me,
if I am part of their routine—
a figure they watch with quiet amusement,
their dark humor
woven into warm, dusty air.

Do they bring omens?
Or only themselves,
the steady rhythm of wings
reminding me
that the day is already in motion,
and I,
like them,
am bound to it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Take The World in A Love Embrace



Rare images of a close companionship between a male black bear and a female gray wolf almost never seen in the wild. Such interactions are exceptions rather than the rule. In the wild:
Competition Is the Norm:
• Bears and wolves generally see each other as competitors for food and territory. Wolves might attempt to harass a bear to protect their packs or food, while bears may steal food from wolf packs.
Rare Exceptions:
• In unusual cases, individual animals may form bonds due to special circumstances, such as being orphaned or raised in proximity to one another. These relationships are more likely to occur if the animals are young and grow accustomed to each other before typical competitive instincts develop.
Observed Instances:
• Wildlife photographers and researchers have occasionally documented unique, friendly interactions like in the photos, but these are considered anomalies. Such relationships may develop in regions where resources are abundant, reducing the competition between species.

It’s a striking reminder of how nature can surprise us with unexpected relationships.


Seven and One

The Mayor of Dogtown

The mayor of Dogtown died last night,
breaking the whole city’s
he art.

The morning is still, and the trees lean in,
listening for steps that will not come.
How will they know he’s gone,
these creatures of the faithful now?

Their eyes trace an empty park bench,
as if waiting for an answer
only we will hear—
we, in the fold of yesterdays,
bound to all that is passing.

They race onward, unbroken and becoming,
carrying something of him in the scuff of leaves,
their joyful, endless present—
while we hold to the stillness,
to the memory,
of a smile echoing across a field.