When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud 

And goes down burning into the gulf below, 
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud 
At what has happened. 
Birds, at least must know 
It is the change to darkness in the sky. 
Murmuring something quiet in her breast, 
One bird begins to close a faded eye; 
Or overtaken too far from his nest, 
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif 
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. 
At most he thinks or twitters softly, \’Safe! 
Now let the night be dark for all of me. 
Let the night bee too dark for me to see 
Into the future. Let what will be, be.\’
-Robert Frost

Mama Grey Whale in Klamath River
June – Aug 16

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