Looking
at the fig tree, still full of leaves, the filled birdfeeder, painted a madder
red, with its first bird, a finch, head and back the color of madder, feeding, and after
a week of ‘hell,’ I’m here, back, in our lovely home in Del Mar. Word is
getting out in the bird world: the feeder is filled! The feeder is filled! The
lady is back for the winter!
This
is what it means to be back, to be here, not in some space-less spaces in the
head where one cannot get beyond one’s own biology. Biology is everything. It is
either kind, or not, and right now it is kind, and my belief that the kindness
and unkindness should both be one notwithstanding, I am relieved it is kind
this morning. I am at rest and ready, in my own slow and slumbering way, to do
or not do as I am moved or not.
I love my birds! one outside the window this morning had a lovely song must be a migrant song bird. Good thing I have water for it and for the phoebe that lives under our eves. Perhaps your birds will make a nest with some of your fabulous hair Kamla.
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