It’s a new year of Poetry Friday!
Mary Lee Hahn hosts this week’s links,
along with poetry WISDOM, at
Join us!
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I’m not terribly superstitious. And I don’t consider myself a birder. But according to birding lore, the first bird you see on New Year’s Day sets the tone for the next 12 months (Margaret Renkl gave a nod to this notion in her entirely gorgeous book, The Comfort of Crows).
On January 1st, during a southern Arizona road trip, Tom and I found ourselves at Lake Patagonia (not in Chile, in Arizona). Not being a birder, I did not know that Patagonia (Arizona, not Chile) is a world-renowned birding destination.
Despite an elevation of 4000 feet, Patagonia is part of the Arizona Sonora desert –which is cold in winter. It was 32 degrees. Still, a great many campers were up early, binoculars laced like leis around their necks, craning to glimpse their first birds of the new year.
And me? I didn’t see one.
I saw SEVEN. These seven.
Seven fluffballs I was certain were stone statues decorating a lakeside hopseed tree. And almost on cue, as I declared them statues, one of them gave me a dismissive side-eye. Without a sound, the others feather-puffed their indignation, scooched impossibly closer together, and gave a knowing nod.
I laughed.
A humble, delighted New Year’s laugh.
And what could be more hopeful than a year that unfolds with laughter?
Birders have their birding lore. Writers seem to have theirs in the One Little Word.
I’m not terribly superstitious. And I don’t consider myself a birder.
But I hope this sets the tone for my next 12 months.
January 1
seven Inca doves
desert-colored cote huddles
new year’s hope unfolds
poem and photo
©2025 Patricia J. FranzÂ
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Whoa! I’m not a birder either (and I’m pretty scared of birds in general), but this is pretty cool. Not on 1/1, but on 1/2, my husband texted me a picture of a Cooper’s Hawk right outside on our deck. What does that say? Other than there’s some good critters for eating lingering under our deck?
How fabulous! As I just commented on Rose’s post, my first bird this year was a Black Kite, which is very ordinary. So maybe it will be a calm year.
Great sonics in this one! We saw a raft of Northern Shovelers who visit our canal when they migrate here for the winter.
Oh, I just love that photo and your description of the moment. I don’t know that I have ever seen that particular species of dove. Here’s to your year unfolding in the best possible way.
Wow. There’s such great symbolism in the number SEVEN and in DOVES, and what (additional) luck to begin the year with laughter!
Mary Lee took my idea. I focused on the number seven, a very lucky number as you saw your “first” bird(s)! And it feels as if you had a taste of the year, lucky with a side eye sounds like a year that we all have! What a fun, endearing post, Patricia. It sounds like a good trip, too! Happy New Year!
That is a fanTAStic story! I think you have to keep this tradition every year now. I’m smiling at the thought of the side-eye from the bird that caught you in a moment of doubt. I would be like that too! Called out by a dove! Ha. Oh, my goodness, I love this post. Happy New Year! I’m wishing you lots and lots of words.
I love your poem, and unfold is such an interesting word! I hope it brings you joy. 🙂
Patricia, your photo of the birds really looks like a group of wood carved birds. It’s amazing that you saw them. “And what could be more hopeful than a year that unfolds with laughter?” I think you are going to have fun with your new one word unfold. It will certainly help you stretch your possibilities, seek new avenues on your spiritual journey, and bring creative ideas to your writing. Thanks for sharing your photo that you sent me. 32 degrees in the desert – I don’t think I ever heard of that low a temperature. Today was our first snow fall that painted the ground in white over the green lawn. It was very cold also. Happy Hiking.
Patricia, your story weaves together that first of year bird tradition and your one little word so beautifully. I love the idea of beginning the year with laughter! Your trip also sounds fabulous! I’m yearning to travel more and wondering how to do that on a teacher’s schedule…hmmmmm
Look at those fluffballs! Wonderful. And “unfold” is one of my most cherished words apparently, because it shows up in a lot of my poems! xo
Love this story and poem…I have yet to see a bird in 2025, but will keep watch. “Unfold” – love the imagery and feel.
Patricia, hooray for a great year ahead for you! Seven, the perfect number. I’m so glad you were able to capture this image too. “new year’s hope unfolds” Yes!
An unbelievable little gift to start the unfolding of your year, Patricia–and the way you describe Dove 1’s expression, and the rest of the gang’s reaction! You have received The Blessing of the Desert, my friend.
Now this seems a lucky start to the year! I can relate to those doves, I’m not much for cold mornings either. 🙂