Triptych 1 (31)

Last weekend I had three images burned into me, three little experiences, my own triptych. I only realized this evening they all took place in the same general direction in my western sky. I photographed the second and the third, though I didn't know they were my triptych yet, didn't know I would use them here, my new things. It never came to me to try to capture the first with my camera, and yet it's the one most vivid in my mind. They happened Friday in the middle of the night, Saturday and Sunday mornings. It wasn't until Sunday night or maybe Monday that I felt the three images inside me. They were a series, all of one piece, and they marked me in their passing. The first one happened a little after three o'clock in the morning. We were having fierce wind. I don't remember waking, only lying and listening to it outside the screen door. After a big gust, I heard birds in the front hedge. It sounded like they were screaming, and then they felt silent. I worried, lying there. I didn't want to go out, but I couldn't bear the thought of a bird knocked to the ground, injured, dying alone in the windy dark. What if I found his still form in the morning? What if I could have protected him? So I found my flashlight and headed out. I checked the ground along the hedge inside the courtyard and out through the gate. No bird, thank goodness. The wind was blowing, the sky intensely clear. The moon was full, heading toward setting behind our mountain. It was other worldly. I stopped on the patio and stared, the bright, bright moon and the tall mountain, the blue black sky, all fierce and piercing like the wind. In the morning it was burned in me, crisp and vivid, like an image in a dream.