Ahh - I see how it is as you adjust and acclimate not-so-far removed from where you were and with the same observational powers of a hawk or eagle - similar latitude and the same tropical storm which spared us across the river here in NH. I was listening to the near silence about a week ago at 7 am, maybe a goldfinch, chickadee and a phoebe. I thought of the now missing warbler songs of May, the woodthrush and veery songs still present in early July and I nearly wept at how quickly we're closing on Labor Day weekend. Each of the 52 weeks is a season. I won't miss humidity and mosquitos in January - but I already miss the morning chorus.
The Delta variant is hurting my heart, as if affects more children. For 31 years, I felt the call of school opening--and now I can't even imagine what teachers and students are facing. I find myself so angry with those who refuse to be vaccinated--so I turn to these words for solace:
"To divert the beam of your attention to nature, to take in the staggering scale of spacetime under the starlit sky or the miniature cosmos of aliveness on the scale of moss or the blooming of a single potted flower, is to step beyond the smallness of your own experience, beyond its all-consuming sorrows and its all-important fixations, and into a calibrated perspective that arrives like a colossal exhale from the lung of life." ~Maria Popova~
Ahh - I see how it is as you adjust and acclimate not-so-far removed from where you were and with the same observational powers of a hawk or eagle - similar latitude and the same tropical storm which spared us across the river here in NH. I was listening to the near silence about a week ago at 7 am, maybe a goldfinch, chickadee and a phoebe. I thought of the now missing warbler songs of May, the woodthrush and veery songs still present in early July and I nearly wept at how quickly we're closing on Labor Day weekend. Each of the 52 weeks is a season. I won't miss humidity and mosquitos in January - but I already miss the morning chorus.
The Delta variant is hurting my heart, as if affects more children. For 31 years, I felt the call of school opening--and now I can't even imagine what teachers and students are facing. I find myself so angry with those who refuse to be vaccinated--so I turn to these words for solace:
"To divert the beam of your attention to nature, to take in the staggering scale of spacetime under the starlit sky or the miniature cosmos of aliveness on the scale of moss or the blooming of a single potted flower, is to step beyond the smallness of your own experience, beyond its all-consuming sorrows and its all-important fixations, and into a calibrated perspective that arrives like a colossal exhale from the lung of life." ~Maria Popova~
https://www.brainpickings.org/2020/09/18/i-go-down-to-the-shore-mary-oliver/