MIGRATION

In honor of the spring equinox, this collection of bird portraits encapsulates the beauty of transitioning out of the winter season.

There is a certain comfort in waking up to the sound of birds chirping, alerting you that they’ve arrived home, and that the cold months are coming to an end. Though there is good to be found in every season, something about the smell of the spring air, and the lessons of the land’s annual rebirth, is a well-needed reminder of our own ability to start fresh, no matter where difficult times may have landed us. Especially in recent events in our communities and lives, a pause to reflect and re-growth of our being is greatly needed. These pieces are especially important to me, beyond the message of spring, birds hold a special place in my life. I chose these winged critters as my subject for this project because I’ve always had a strong bond with them. Birds of all kinds show up in my life, in one way or another, when I’m on the right path. Faced with a life-changing decision, unsure where or who I want to be, I see birds. When I spot one, I’m filled with this sense of relief and wholeness. I like to think they are the physical representation of my ancestors looking after me. My guides through life, the great and the tough moments. Guiding me where I need to go.

The first time I went sweetgrass picking, starting the journey of connecting with my culture. I had just collected a handful of bright green blades, held together, they looked like long hair, dancing with the breeze. I smelled home for the first time. I knew I was done when I’d collected just enough for a loved one and myself. Something large flew by with a swoosh; all I saw in the moment was massive grey and blue wings. Heron settled on a rock, which at the moment wasn’t entirely engulfed in water, and hugged their wings back into themself. I felt as though somebody wanted to be witness to my indigenous homecoming. I had never seen a heron before, especially not one who so comfortably stood only a few yards away from me. I felt full of gratitude and safety. I sat down on a boulder where the tide rushed into the bay and thanked the land for the grass I had harvested, and for the beautiful, warm day I was privileged enough to spend by the ocean with my family.