My lifelong pursuit of ways to procrastinate joy has to stop now, because tomorrow there could be a patch of solid air I didn’t see coming and how sad it would be to leave so many good things undone.
This is so beautiful. I listened to the audio and loved the birds singing in the background. I’ve been thinking about living with joy lately, even amidst a backdrop of loss, and learning to risk loving again. You’ve given me something to ponder.
Oh my friend. You are singing an avian chorus I know all too well. We keep our three feeders filled with seed, which Bill buys in 40 lb bags from Ace, and there is never a question about whether or not it's an important purchase. The reward is In spying the tap, tap tapping of nut hatches as they patiently sit with their small cache, perched on the feeders and make their way to a sunflower meal.
And the image of your precious dog with her head nuzzle in your ribs, communicating such sadness about the bird colliding with the window. It was a bit much and made me tear up, I have to say.
Ps have you read Courtney Ellis's book, Looking Up-On Bird's Grief and Hope? My oh my, it is a stunner.
Very much enjoyed your essay, Tresta. As someone who also likes to feed the birds, it resonated deeply. I think we can learn a lot from our little feathered friends.
I meant to add something about the bird’s grief in this, too, because one of her brood was gone and she was obviously distressed by that. For days there was a sparrow singing more obnoxiously than usual in the backyard.
This is so beautiful. I listened to the audio and loved the birds singing in the background. I’ve been thinking about living with joy lately, even amidst a backdrop of loss, and learning to risk loving again. You’ve given me something to ponder.
I'm so glad you noticed the bird song in the audio! That was unplanned but it blessed me.
Loss is ever-present and you are right--every love is a risk. Praying your ponderings bring you back to joy again and again.
Oh my friend. You are singing an avian chorus I know all too well. We keep our three feeders filled with seed, which Bill buys in 40 lb bags from Ace, and there is never a question about whether or not it's an important purchase. The reward is In spying the tap, tap tapping of nut hatches as they patiently sit with their small cache, perched on the feeders and make their way to a sunflower meal.
And the image of your precious dog with her head nuzzle in your ribs, communicating such sadness about the bird colliding with the window. It was a bit much and made me tear up, I have to say.
Ps have you read Courtney Ellis's book, Looking Up-On Bird's Grief and Hope? My oh my, it is a stunner.
I haven’t read that but I should add it to my list, with your hearty recommendation. I trust you ; )
Beautiful reflection, Tresta. Thanks for writing it. :)
I appreciate that, Chris. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.
This was stunning. 💛
Very much enjoyed your essay, Tresta. As someone who also likes to feed the birds, it resonated deeply. I think we can learn a lot from our little feathered friends.
Thank you, Kathryn. May your feeders be full ; )
Wow, this was beautiful writing and storytelling. Really loved this piece!
Thank you, Ashley ; )
Something about this sentence is gonna stick with me:
"It wasn’t the dog’s fault, or mine; try telling that to a noisy sparrow with its incessant song."
I meant to add something about the bird’s grief in this, too, because one of her brood was gone and she was obviously distressed by that. For days there was a sparrow singing more obnoxiously than usual in the backyard.
Of course she was.