While walking this morning

along the edge of the little wood that

borders the vineyard, a hoopoe

flew straight and low across my path.

There is so much to love about this bird.

A more sociable creature might be tempted

to loiter and flaunt the gift of its garb,

but not the hoopoe. It offers

just enough of itself for us to savour,

and leaves us hopeful of another sighting soon.

Another sighting of that crest

which gives it the look of a youth

still full of fire and belief,

her hopes not yet extinguished

by experience and disappointment.

Another sighting of those two-tone wings,

opened with all the poise

of an Andalusian señora

fanning herself

on a warm summer’s night.

Another chance to utter

its perfect scientific name,

Upupa epops,

words that smack against the lips

like a cold beer

on a warm summer’s day.

Words like a miniature song

filling the chamber of the mouth

with joy.