The world goes on

Outside the chickadee and Carolina wren, the cardinals and the tufted titmice, sparrows galore, the Blue Jays and the flicker (that has decided this year the bird feeder is the best thing around) surround the house sharing the peanuts and birdseed, the suet blocks and the abundance of this mild rainy day. Yesterday on our ramble there was a particularly plaintive cry that only the squirrels make, and I always ask, “What’s wrong, Gerald?” (I call all squirrels, Gerald), but this time looking up I saw what was bothering Gerald, the two hawks in a neighboring tree looking down! “Good luck, buddy,” I said as we walked on.

Around the corner at the house on Vine (occasionally it flies a Union Jack, but right now a Ukrainian flag) none of the cats were around. Typically, at least three cats are lounging, but not yesterday. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm, so I’m sure they had other things to do. I had one class on Wednesday and felt like finding a warm quiet place myself, but I’ll play cat another time. When we got home the black cat was out front pretending, she is shy, but she isn’t running any longer.

We woke yesterday to the news of another round of death and destruction due to America’s free-for-all with guns. The frequency of the carnage is such that even the calls for thoughts and prayers are being neglected. The cowards who have the ability to change the laws but are too enamored of money and power to do more than pay lip service to the problem are silent. Let’s call every bullet an abortion and see how quickly they pivot. Prolife indeed.

And while we’re counting the dead, in the past week Covid numbers (at least those reported) fell below 300 for a day or two. But it didn’t last long, right back to 311 today. And the confusion on the pandemic continues a sampling of headlines from this week: we’re heading into a triple threat of RSV, Omicron and Flu; Omicron surge is coming; more vaccinated people are dying because the efficacy has worn off, and hey, it’s all over.

If there’s something we are really good at here in America, oh like forever, is following these awesome and exceptional narratives about how awesome and exceptional we are. Go team America.

Well.

I’m grateful for the birds, and the man, the Bambina and her man, my boy wherever he is and my friends. My big family is gathering elsewhere, and the new family is safe and sound as well. I have a good, warm house, some wonderful food cooking (right now) and a gentle rain falling.

Be safe, be kind, find a warm place to rest. Read some poetry.

The sky puts on its clear
face just a dawn blush
and golden shine as the sun
is met on the horizon,
the earth’s rotation
this old globe’s tilt.
In the fall cold, birdsong: 

the world goes on.