Black Phoebe – a poem by Danny Faragher

January 5, 2017 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry

black phoebeblackphoebe

the black phoebe sits on the wire
in the waning light of the afternoon,
its hooded head turning and nodding,
its sharp eyes surveying the yard below.

it is the hunting hour
when the light is best;
when winged insects take to the air
oblivious to the danger perched above.

a large moth flits under the patio eaves…
up and down and in and out
in seemingly aimless motion.

suddenly the phoebe swoops to strike
with a sound like fist on a paper sack
the catch is made
inches short of collision with the house
the bird executes a speedy turn,
and with meal in beak
circles back to its perch.

where the moth was but a second before
only a beige cloud of powder remains,
dissipating in the breeze,
dissolving into the air…


Hunter’s Moon Rising

October 19, 2016 in Happenings, Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Thoughts

hunter’s moon risinghuntersmoon3
breaking  through horizon’s seal
its luminescence partially blocked
by slashing power lines
and blunt fisted towers
but destined to ascend full and free
in the clear October sky
like a big, voluptuous scoop  of dreams



Danny Faragher

‘Open the Door’ song lyrics

June 1, 2016 in Happenings, Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts

‘Open the Door’ – From the ‘Dancing with the Moment’ album.TMP-Shoot---Canyon-Hike-PR-049a

verse 1
Hear the morning breeze that’s rattling the window
Feel the waking sun peep through the blinds
Lost in a daydream Thoughts so far away
But aware of how the ‘here and the now’
Is slipping away

verse 2
Smell each steaming drip of coffee a’brewing
Watch the bob and weave of birds in the air
Lost in reflection
A million miles away
But hearing the bell and knowing full well
We’ve only today
So come out and play

Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
So open up the door and step outside

verse 3
Lost in a memory
Of good things left undone
But hearing the chime and knowing that time
Waits for no one
To dance ‘neath the sun

Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
So open up the door

Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
Step outside

Open the door and step outside…


About the writing of  Open the Door

The music came first. At the time I had been immersing myself in Brian Wilson’s ‘Pet Sounds’ and the soaring melody
reflects that. Lyrically, I wanted to write something that had an almost child like innocence to it. It’s simply about tuning
into life – being a dreamer but engaging the world. Greeting the morning as if it were the first (or the last). Life is a miracle.
Open the door and embrace it.

Love and Harmony
Danny Faragher

blood moon rising

September 28, 2015 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Uncategorized



blood moon rising
breaking through cover
of cloud

bearing earth’s shadow
upon its face
like a proud scar

then free – it looms large
commanding the night sky,
illuminating the upturned
faces below

Morning – a poem

July 23, 2015 in Happenings, Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Thoughts

bird in the fountainmorning

the gray cloud cover hangs low
as it meanders and rolls by
like a sympathetic hand
to stroke and sooth the waiting earth

on the patio
a bird flutters and splashes
in the rippling fountain
life is good

Eaten Canyon

November 17, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts

Eaton Canyon

Autumn in Eaten Canyon Photo by Patsy Faragher

This poem was inspired by a photograph taken by my sister,
Patsy Faragher

Eaton Canyon… still, peaceful canyon
Tucked between mountains to the north
And foothills to the south
Safe from the ever encroaching sprawl

Eaton Creek’s cold, clear water
Dropping fifty feet over rocky fall
Then streaming gently in quiet meander,
To flow into Rio Hondo, destined for the sea.

In the crisp autumn air we walk
Following well trodden path that for millennia
Knew the shuffling gait of grizzly
And light-footed step of moccasin and sandal

Veering off the trail now, we find a secret shady spot
Under a scruffy little California oak
That streams dappled sunlight through its canopy.
Beneath its branches, the leaf and rock strewn ground
Is aglow and sparkling… ocher, gold, silver, green…
A harvest basket of color

The tree knows about life
It has seen fire,
It has seen flood
It has thrived in nature’s bountiful seasons
And hunkered down to survive through the lean.

Listen to the silence. Focus on the silence.
To our assaulted ears it is overpowering
We may hear the soft rustling sounds of wildlife,
Creatures that hear us as we breath
Creatures keenly aware of our presence.

Listen even deeper…
Do you hear… in the breeze
The low dreamy murmur of female voices?
Tongva women speaking and laughing
As they gather acorn for meal
And wiregrass for weaving,
Dipping and filling water baskets in the stream

Oh, that we could linger here in this spot.
We must dip our basket into its essence
Take it along to nourish our souls,
Knowing we will soon be back to replenish




a dry spell ends

November 4, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry

a dry spell ends –
the drenched earth exhales
a sigh of satisfaction

After the rain. L. A., California, November,2014 - Photo by Patsy Faragher

After the rain. L. A., California, November,2014 – Photo by Patsy Faraghera sigh of satisfaction

parched lips that feared
this blessed day
would never come to pass

now give voice
to joyous song with
moistened words of thankfulness

the squatter weeds
will seize the chance to
pose as lush and verdant guests

’til summer heat returns
to wither and expose their
hidden cache of thorn and sticker

and the sun resolves
‘enough’s enough!’ and vows
again to re-impose his reign supreme



white peacock

July 1, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Of the World, Poetry, Reflections

white peacock



white peacock

a white feathered peacock
meanders down a garden lane
in solitary gait

he tiptoes on the edge of a world
where beauty is defined by one’s color
he walks alone

cool air, come

June 24, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry


cool air, comestock-footage-aerial-footage-flying-over-the-pacific-ocean-on-partly-cloudy-day
through pass and canyon flow
to bring us sweet relief

this oppressive inland heat
clamps down  on us like a lid
to impose its harsh will

whether  still and stagnant
or filled with smoke and fury
it shows no mercy

we look westward  to the coast
to blue pacific water
and with open arms beseech

O cool air, blow
sneak in through the night
under cover of cloud
and stay a while

the Italian cypress

May 13, 2014 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry

the Italian cypress

the Italian cypress had to go
near three times the height of the roofCA_Italian_cypress
it stood pointing to the sky – aloof
swaying a healthy ‘to and fro’
but the Italian cypress had to go

when it was a small and pretty tree
perhaps it had seemed to make more sense
to plant it there between house and fence
as it could be viewed in its entirety
a green and lovely little tree

but now it was a towering mast
too much tree for too little space
simply put, it was out of place
and so this day would be its last
the date being booked, the die being cast

at seven a.m. there appeared a truck
and out stepped a small and wiry man
with rope, and belt, and saw in hand
the cypress had run out of luck
an easy mark, a sitting duck

in a few short hours they’d cut her down
this fast and most efficient crew
the chainsaw roared, the branches flew
and upon inspection all I found
was a patch of sawdust on the ground

I told myself… ‘It’s the way of the world –
the old must make way for the new.
besides, its absence makes for a better view.”
then I caught sight of a little squirrel
who seemed perplexed as he dodged and whirled

searching for what used to be,
looking left and right, and up and down
and at the sawdust on the ground
perhaps he wondered why he could not see
the tall Italian cypress tree

my mouth turned into ironic smile
this nuisance tree, so out of place,
that marred our lovely living space
was something other all the while …
a creature’s happy domicile