Cardinals and wrens, crows and finches awaken me on Spring mornings. Once in a while, there are new sounds ... fresh voices among the feathered chorus. At 5:00 a.m. their songs can sometimes be an abrupt introduction to the day. Robin heard impatience in the call of one bird yesterday morning. Endless repetition of the same pattern of notes - what the hell is he wanting? A mate? Food? Title to his territory? To piss off sleeping people?
Later, we joined friends to see the movie, "Earth". Our 13 year old son had gone to Waterbury with his class to see "Earth" the previous day, and reported his experience with little enthusiasm, which we read as a hopeful sign. I might have guessed what was coming when the movie opened with a tribute to Walt Disney and showed clips of "Bambi". I had listened to a radio interview with directors Alastair Fothergill and Mark Linfield that really had me juiced for something EXTRA extraordinary. I judge it to have been quasi-extraordinary. True to Disney-form, it was the human drama projected onto the globe, onto the cosmos, with whales and polar bears and elephants in the roles of mommies and daddies doing seasonal battle with the elements and ubiquitous predators, and the sun as Deus Ex Machina serenely carrying out its daily, supreme migration. Yet, there were truly extraordinary visual moments. One slow motion sequence of a cheetah's running attack on a gazelle revealed the cat's head motionless in absolute focus on its escaping prey, while every other part of its body is rippling with the exertion of a 60 mph run. I'd watch that clip again and again. And there were others.
Most of the birds have quieted their singing this morning, which is a signal to me that it's time to get along on the adventure of my day. Thanks, you feathery critters, for all you do, and all you give, to enrich my experience of life. May I always honor you for the beautiful beings you are, and not merely for what you give me. Aho.
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Aldo Leopold, in his wondrous book, "A Sand County Journal" has a wonderful essay that goes something like this (my contemporary interpretation), "So we are taught that when the birds sing at dawn and again at dusk they are saying something like this: :Yo, get outa here, this is my space...or...yo baby, wanna get it on?...nothing could be further from the truth. They wake up singing, Oh, hey, wow, it's another new day! Wow !! I am glad to be alive, and the chorus says, we are glad to be alive; let's get out there and have some fun!!! At the end of the day they gather and share their stories: wow, this was a great day...this is what we did...this was fun...let's do it again.." Sometimes our projections of our human condition on the world around us are painfully obvious..
ReplyDeleteListen very carefully to the birds...especially the Mocking Bird...whistle a certain tune every morning, as they are celebrating their wondrous repertoire...and soon you will hear your song from them.
Carl