A cup o' kindness

Welp, here we are at the butt end of 2021. Gawd.

If you’re reading this, it means you’re still alive and I say, bravo! Well done to make it through this annus horribilis, starting with the GQP-sponsored insurrection and carrying on with the GQP-encouraged anti-mask anti-vax anti-reason mouth-breathers, the first instance in US history of an unpeaceful transfer of power (thanks, GQP), the miasma of Big Lies (courtesy of the GQP) and the onslaught of the Delta and Omicron variants overwhelming our already-precarious for-profit healthcare system (not directly attributed to the GQP, but man, did they ever exacerbate it).

And I, for one, am glad to be looking at it in my rearview mirror.

This evening I’m clearing the decks for 2022 with my usual ritual of burning El Año Viejo—writing out a list of the pain, sorrow, chagrin, anger, fear, pain, frustration and other negative things that happened this year…and then setting it on fire.

The New Year then becomes a tabula rasa upon which I can create love, kindness, generosity, joy and hope.

So I’m closing out this final Friday with “Auld Lang Syne”. In this case sung by Rod Stewart at Stirling Castle. Because why not?

 

More than leaves

Let’s have another backyard visitor, shall we?

I was sitting in my livingroom, talking with a friend on the phone a few weeks ago. My gaze out the patio door rested on the top of my neighbor’s bird feeder pole and I thought, “Oh. A clump of leaves sitting on that pole.”

But the longer I looked at it, the more it came together along my optic nerve.

“Owl! I have to get a picture! There’s an owl out there. I’ll call you back! Have to get a photo. I’ll call you back!”

My friends are used to this kind of thing, so she acquiesced. I mean—I was already hitting the End Call button and grabbing the Nikon.

Anyway—here it is:

Just gorgeous.

(I did call my friend back and we continued the conversation. As one does. But I’m glad I got the shot. Some people walking by out back scared it away and I haven’t seen it since. But I’ll be on the lookout.)

 

 

Thug life

Since I’m catching you up on the neighbors, here are some clips from a month ago. I heard some noises on the patio late at night, so I went down and discovered an entire gang of trash pandas were engaged in nefarious activities.

 

Brunch companion

What with Advent and all, I’ve fallen behind on my Wild Kingdom postings. But a couple of weeks ago I came downstairs and noticed some activity on the patio.

Well, look who it is:

I can’t now recall what I might have tossed outside after dinner the night before. Don’t tell the neighbors, but when I have a lamb chop, I chew as much as I can get off the bone and then chuck it onto the patio. Invariably, it’s no longer there in the morning. Ditto the skin when I’ve roasted a salmon fillet. So it might have been either, or something else entirely.

I’m happy to share.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: sights & sounds

I hope you had a happy and healthy Christmas, if you celebrate. If you don’t, I hope you got some down time that you could enjoy.

My gratitude for today is about the wonders that Nature provides for me on my morning walks, and also for the serendipity that occurs when I shift my focus from the path in front of me so I can truly appreciate them. Two examples from last week:

Thursday I started out a little later than usual, nearly 0700. I’d just about reached the point where I turn right, when I looked up in the sky and saw a shooting star. The first ever I’ve seen on the hoof.

Yes, I know it wasn’t a star; it was a meteor hitting the earth’s atmosphere and going out in a blaze of glory. But it was, in fact, glorious. And had I not been at that point in my circuit and looking up, I’d have missed it. Three more meters and it would have been outside my peripheral vision. But it and I were in exactly the right place at precisely the right time.

(No pix because it literally lasted a couple of seconds.)

The other example is from Christmas morning, as I was pulling into the cluster at the end of my walk. I realized that I was surrounded by a symphony of bird song; those guys were swarming the treetops and singing their beaks off. I did get a couple of clips (in between aircraft heading in to Dulles) for your enjoyment.

Here’s the thing—as with the shooting star, I almost missed the concert, because I tend to use my walking to rehash Things and plan Other Things. But this time I let them penetrate my thoughts and was rewarded mightily for it.

So I’m grateful for the beauty around me, for getting out every morning into it and occasionally paying attention to it.