A Change of Plans...

Dear Maria,

Good morning! A change of plans, and so I am at my desk, watching Chipping sparrows swarm the feeder. They started showing up for the first time this week, and from around half a dozen Monday, they now come at least a dozen strong in the morning just before the sun is high enough to light up the feeder.

The retreat from Plan A? Breakfast with a former student was cancelled for the second morning in a row because of a sick child—hers, not mine. Of course. You should be laughing at this point.

Just after the message arrived asking for a rescheduling of breakfast, I said to Max that “I didn’t know this was how the morning was going to go.” Yes, out loud. Of course. All the research shows that the more words heard, the better for brain development. All the cool parents are yapping now. Hmmm, I wonder about that. Think about the phone conversations that are not taking place within earshot of little ones.

That not-knowing observation is laughable, too. Sometimes I think about the seconds before I met someone that would have a great impact on my life. Someone not scheduled into my day. Just seconds, and then life never the same again.

Yes, I know—illnesses, job offers, pregnancies, accidents. Got it. But maybe being a little more conscious of the flashpoints makes that living in the moment notion resonate a little deeper with me.

True enough, this colliding of a sorts means I have been a sudden turning for others. And not always in a good way, but that thought is going to take me into therapy-land, and who needs that?

Yes, the sun is shining. Yes, the days of late are warmer. Easy enough to tell. Even one of the Knockouts out back is showing new growth and has a bud. I can’t believe the plant has enough energy to create a bloom, but haven’t I—haven’t we all—been surprised before.

Maybe that’s the true surprise of love. Not that it is given or received, but that someone or something comes along to be loved.

But hold that thought. Max is nosing my arm, circling over to the door, and back again. I am, if nothing else, trainable. Chipping sparrows, sick kids, unexpected buds—what next?

Oh, I told a friend via messaging this morning that I haven’t felt much like writing of late. That’s worth a smile. As for us, you—thanks for being another one of the better surprises in my life.

Always, yours, srk

Wading in the Light...

Dear Maria,

Sunshine is forecast to make an appearance again in a few days. That possibility becomes my focus since I need not be so eager for the weekly weekend respite or the scattering of holidays from work that mark the calendar. Of course—I hear you laugh—the clouds will not remain with us forever.

Lately, I have noted, cardinals have tolerated sparrows at the feeder, but for all other species, it seems only birds of a feather may feed together.  The bluebird maintains his watch over his home, the noisy hawk again roams the neighborhood, and the squirrels continue to annoy the dickens out of me, but I going with live and let live.

Truth: I do encourage Max to dash out into the yard and send the tree rats fleeing for their lives. Maybe the exercise will make them somehow safer from the hawk, some kind of circle-of-life game where I play villain and helper at the same time. Interesting the mental gymnastics we are capable of performing. Cruel to be kind, indeed.

Yes, I am aware of the murders committed in France, and I have seen the photos of world leaders displaying solidarity in a condemnation of the attacks, but I have also read commentary that celebrates the bloodshed. My thought—and not my first one—is to ask: How does a free society suppress anger and hatred?

The world seems to me mostly populated by a vast majority of moderates, moderates in the sense of living life with a focus on family and friends, doing some kind of work, and generally being about getting along. Choosing life, not death. Choosing light, not darkness. The extremists, to my way of thinking choose death, choose darkness. That, to me, is the war—moderation versus extremism.

Can despair fuel rage and hatred and violence? Of course. Will we ever experience a world free of hatred and violence? I cannot image such a time.

Honestly, the photo of the little girl thrown by her father from a bridge in St. Petersburg haunts me more than the deaths in Paris. More than 60 feet to the water below. One news story reported that she hated the water. How will we ever stop such madness?

Bah, enough! Hug your children. Hug those you love. Kiss one another, and hold hands, and whisper sweet nothings, and smile at strangers. Be kind to one another. Give, hold, repair, share.

Oh, yes, I count on the sun’s return. I must.

Be safe and well and know that you are loved.

Yours, srk

 

 

 

Happy New Year!

Dear Maria,

Greetings, and an emphatic apology for the delay in writing. A stretch of rainy weather put me in a bit of a funk, and then the holidays were in full force, and so now on a gray morning, I am decided to have at it and send along at the very least a wish for a very happy new year—2015, which seems somehow preposterous to say out loud.

Max managed to survive New Year’s Eve via two “relaxers”, and my left arm has but one scratch to attest to a calmer, less bombastic celebration in the neighborhood this year. I sat on the edge of the bed, he kept his head under my leg and his tail between his, and after about half an hour, peace broke out.

Christmas was festive—my sister hosting Christmas Eve dinner, and a Christmas brunch, and then in the late afternoon the adults reassembled to exchange gifts. Everyone was in good form and cheery and several times, I think, 27 were under one roof. As for news from that crew, we learned of my sister’s 17^th grandchild on the way next year, as is the 16^th.  The slogan “The More the Merrier” comes to mind.

Were they in Japan, my sister might be declared empress and the entire family named royals for life. Of course, my kid brother has five children and so that branch will sooner or later add to the ever-expanding roster. At least a city-state in the offing seems deserved.

As for me, health good, no obvious headaches on the horizon, and always glad to set my feet on the floor in the morning. The very early morning. I did think that perhaps the Winter Solstice should mark the beginning of the new year because the days begin to lengthen, even if only by a handful of seconds. Regardless, everyone will experience the harder edge of their winter’s weather in the upcoming weeks.

To my surprise, the bluebirds continue to hang about the neighborhood. The other day a female disappeared into the condo, and a few minutes later a young male set himself outside the opening and finally after what seemed due deliberation took the plunge into the box. Within seconds he came streaking out with the female fluttering wildly at the entrance. Don’t know what the faux pas was, but it was definitive.

I hope this letter finds you well and rested from all the family fun. May the future be bright—the days lengthening—and marked by many blessings. Happy New Year!

Yours, srk