Mourning Dove
Pastel Drawing
Kidist P. Asrat
2013
It's been almost a year (a month and and day short - there must be some numerical significance to that number) since I posted on this blog. There are a few drafts (three to be exact), but I briefly resumed activity at Our Changing Landscape, and I started something I called Society for the Reclamation of Beauty (more on this later), but for the most part I have just been posting photos, and the occasional communications with other bloggers.
My silence was not a renunciation, but a way to revive my interest and general excitement when I start a new blog post.
For some reason, I felt tired, as though there was nothing more to say.
What an error in imagination! There is always something to say.
I think what I felt was that there was nothing positive left to say.
As I discussed with a friend, this nihilistic, apocalyptic view of the world is anti-Christian and anti-God.
Who am I to judge, and decide, when things are over?
Even in the midst of horror, God would wish us to live. Each step we take in life is a preparation for harder times, making us hardier and more resolute to keep our world and fight for our world. We are sure to meet our ultimate enemy some time. It is better that we harden ourselves now.
Yet, we should also wonder at the eternal cheerfulness of the little bird.
It is telling that got my earthly resolve back almost as soon as I participated in a "Birding With Experts" walk, a program organized by the Riverwood Conservancy, where we meet and greet (so we think!) or pesky little fowl friends, who may grace us with their song, although it is more often with their flight.
Here are some photos I took of some birds at my last visit, along with the woods now almost fully clothed with their green cloaks, all the more easier for our chirping chickadees to hide in.
The Mourning Dove, elusive and shy,
with its silhouette against the early morning sky,
makes that plaintive cry
I'm not sure what this is. I think it is a yellow warbler.
I will ask at our next meeting.
The Indigo Bunting. It was playing hide-and-seek with us, calling out with its song, announcing spring, until it appeared hight up on the bare branches, above us, and any danger (except for that hawk!).
A Red-Tailed Hawk, glancing at our intruding group. He is ready
to circle and pounce on the rodent he's just eyed
Luc Fazio, our steward, as the conservancy calls him. The pole holding the video camera acts as his staff with which to rescue wayward members. I have slight vertigo, even for elementary slopes. and he called out at one time, pushing the pole before me:"Just hold on!"I did as bidden, barely touching the stick, and sure enough, I was out of my hole!
"But you won't be able to pull me with that!"
"Just use the stick as a guide, don't cling onto it."
"It's all psychological," said our kind shephard. "I once had a women in my group in Brazil, who wouldn't do as I told her. She fell, lacerated her arm, and we had call for medical assistance."
God forbid that they would have had to call medical assistance for me!
[Photos By: KPA]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Posted By: Kidist P. Asrat
