Chera Hammons

@chera-writes.bsky.social

41 Followers 47 Following

#Poet who loves the natural world. Birds of America (The Dial Press, 2026): "This is a birder’s guide to survival, with the poet as our binoculars—trained outward toward the sky & inward toward the most vulnerable chambers of the heart.”—Jennifer Givhan

A blue jay illuminated in early morning light perches on a hammered metal weather vane, in profile facing left. The weather vane is dark gray with a reddish undertone and is in the shape of a running horse atop an arrow. The arrow and horse are both also pointed left. There are four round cups to catch wind on the post beneath the arrow. The background is the dark red sheet metal of a barn.
Four young scissor-tailed flycatchers sit in the branches of a hackberry tree. The birds are white with gray wings, gray tails, and light gray masks and show the fuzziness of youth. Two are side-by-side on a branch in the top corner and two more are side-by-side on a branch in the bottom corner. They are all looking quizzically at the camera, heads tilted at different angles, one with its beak slightly open. The branches are covered in green leaves with sunlight filtering through them. There is a wire fence and t-posts blurred in the background.
A vibrant gray-brown robin with a bright orange and black-tipped beak, white eyeliner, sparkling black eye, and white and orange belly lifts its head after drinking from a concrete bird bath. There are multiple green yucca spikes going diagonally from the bottom right corner to the top left in the background behind the birdbath.
A solid black bird with a large, dark gray beak and dark gray legs perches facing left atop a black metal decorative shepherd's hook on a cloudy day and looks at the camera with one vibrant red eye. The background is blurred green, yellow, and white.
A vibrant, compact bird with a black head, orange breast, and black wings with white spots looks askance at the camera. He has a pale beak and dark feet. He perches atop a decorative metal encircled star.
A wet lark sparrow stands alone in a pool of water. Its reflection and the reflection of some tall grass are very clear.
A small, cute, feathery charcoal gray bird with dark feet and beak, dark tail, and buff orange belly perches atop a yucca spike. Its body faces left but its head is turned slightly to the right. There are old, dark brown open yucca pods below it on the spike. The background is a white sky with a blurred wooden fence.
A vibrant orange, gray, brown, and white female kestrel perches atop a slender gray cedar post in profile, facing right. Her feathers are slightly puffed, making her look fluffy and round. Her feet are bright yellow, with her dark talons visible on the post.
A curve-billed thrasher with orange eyes sits in the early morning sunlight on a prickly pear cactus pad, surrounded by purple fruit.
Camera looks down on a Canada goose that is bent down rippling the water that otherwise clearly reflects a bare tree on the shore that is out of frame above the goose. Photo is in black and white.
Three round, gray scaled quail run through snow past a yellowing yucca plant
A mockingbird perches atop a twisted black metal finial and looks askance at the photographer.
A dove tries to land on a wooden tray feeder in which a roadrunner is already sitting, stalking a yellow wasp that's on the side of the feeder.
A roadrunner stands in the sun on a paving stone with a large rosemary plant in the background. The sheen off of the bird's feathers have a greenish/bluish tint.
On a cloudy day, five ravens play in the air above a dark-shingled roof atop a red-brick house. Two ravens appear to be joined in the air because they are flying so closely together.
Male cardinal with rough-looking wing feathers flies past behind dead brown yucca stalk. Camera is focused on yucca stalk.
Female kestrel with brown and black barred back, head turned to face camera. She's sitting on an empty yucca pod attached to a stem with two other opened yucca pods on it lower down. Background is blurred tans and greens.
Close up of woman in white shirt holding mirror that reflects sky and has text reading "She maps her own disaster with silence."
Tiny light gray butterfly with slight orange and black markings on closed wings, two small black and white tails trailing from wings
Caption text over photograph looking up at trees and red cliffs overhead, blue sky with clouds in background
Caption text over photograph of bird flying with wings spread down concrete wall with its shadow stark behind it
Caption text over photograph of white flower in focus against blurring background with sunrise and rays of light
Caption text over photograph of green field featuring single tree covered in light pink blossoms. There are green mountains and a green treeline in the background.
Caption text over photograph of dark evergreen trees against cloudless gray sky
Brown and white miniature horse wearing blue halter, with long luxurious blond mane blowing dramatically in the wind
Caption text over photo in which a bird flies away from a tree that is covered in nests, which will soon be hidden by the growing green leaves
Caption text over photograph of yellow hay field under dark storm clouds
Two antelope stand facing each other in field, a Love's gas station sign in the distance behind them.
The Fall of Rome The city’s women knew too well that when the seasons changed, a house must change, too. In the last days of the democracy they walked barefoot through the rooms, shaking the dust out of the sun-faded curtains, watching for the scorpions which sometimes crept along the walls in autumn’s early chill. They swept, as was their habit. They polished. They put heavier quilts upon the beds. They watered the houseplants which were not yet dormant, aware that even the hardy pothos would not long outlive any woman who had stood in the stead of rain. That spring, when the newly unfurled leaves had draped tender and neon on stems that reached from the dark green center mass, that sudden color had been so vivid that it hurt something vital they thought they had lost, so that they felt the loss of it again. A final flare of sunset. The blue jay feathers they’d gathered as girls, which must have wound up in boxes in attics, going to dust and mites. Those feathers had been almost fluorescent against the brown winter grass. They had long known that safety was the same as that bright blue: just a trick of the light. Some lies, so perfect, so precise, you’d do almost anything to forgive them.
Text reading, "Tell me what sort of world this is. So often I ask, 'What could this mean?' and hope the answer is something remarkable," over photograph of cottontail rabbit in wildflowers.