SadieSue hasn’t been eating much and I wondered why, till Scott mentioned that he’s finding egg shells on the lawn. She’s stealing from duck nests. Who wants kibble when you can have fresh eggs?
The soras are back. It’s tempting to sleep in the office so I can listen to them while falling asleep. With Scott’s C-Pap machine next to me in our bed, bird calls outside the window can’t be heard. The frog chorus can’t be heard. The coyotes can’t be heard. Why is it that the goddamn barking dog can still be heard?
If I stop here, my sister Joan will say to herself, “Tsk! Where’s the rest?” So I had better carry on, even though the popular wisdom about blogging these days is “Who wants to read about you? Write posts about them — stories and information that will help them to live/do/be better!”
That’s a tall order. What do I know about living better — especially how other people could live better? I only know that I’m happy a good part of the time, and a lot of that is due to my environment. I’m not elbow-to-elbow with other people, even those I love. I can step outside my door and be alone but for animals and birds and butterflies, and soak up the beauty of sky and clouds and trees. When I lived in towns or cities , I felt trapped and surrounded. How can anyone be happy in those conditions? But that’s only me. Lots of people are not only happy, but blooming, in towns and cities.
It’s not always easy or possible to “bloom where you’re planted,” though you can stay alive. That’s not blooming, though.
After lunch I sat down with a cup of tea and Sharon Butala‘s new memoir, Where I Live Now. Oh my. I was in tears before I’d finished the preface. I recognize myself in her emotional life. And beautiful writing, perfect. I’ve said before that her earlier memoir, The Perfection of the Morning, is my favourite book. It spoke to me like no book ever had. I often think of it, still, of Sharon, when I’m walking somewhere here, anywhere, and remember that others walked here before me, many centuries ago. I wonder who they were, what they were doing. It’s Sharon who reminded me that this land was not empty before me and mine came here.