Sunday, April 09, 2017

Wood pigeons

5.23am and birds are singing, led of course by the blackbird. Why is it so important to witness beginnings and endings? My whole body clock is attuned to this. Up at 5 with the birds, lying in my bed, a cool breeze coming in from the window and the whole of the dawn in its glory. Last night at dusk we walked, sky shot pink and melon, the full moon behind us, a light wind in the beech trees, the rustling of the new green leaves, in awe. Just in awe. All of it washing over me, the full extent of its beauty, its intricate, complicated, magical simplicity. After thirty years away, thirty years of dawns and dusks, I have come to realize that I don't want to miss a thing. Childhood and longing and feeling safe and being part of the enormous, complex machine, love and a sense of being an infinitesimally tiny thread in a glorious golden fabric, woven with such care and precision. Everything is what is meant to be. Everything right now is as it should be. Never before have I felt so incredibly humbled by the natural world. It is what is important. Everything else is just distraction. It is a giant, soft bed where we may lay our heads when we are weary, a salve, a cure, but it fits us perfectly. We fit right in if we choose it. 

Of course I can't help but speak of my marveling. The English are circumspect. "The weather won't last" they say in unison. "Just you wait."  Californians wouldn't say this. It's all a bit more "be here now" over there. They are in the moment, loving the sun, not thinking about tomorrow. The English don't like too much of a good thing. It makes them itchy. Keeps them from being disappointed. 

Wood pigeons - if I may - add another layer to the chorus. A reminder perhaps of childhood when we all knew the song. 



Anonymous said...

absolutely beautiful. you are quite right too. the world is going through such disconnect. people have forgotten precisely this. x

LPC said...

Beautiful. Thank you. Here we have the wood doves in summer. Cooroo, cooroo, cooroo.