This morning, for all the gray, the dampness, this was singing outside the window:
Usually this tree is filled with very territorial robins, who were missing from sight (fingers crossed not as a result of an unfortunate bird battle, but of a civilized agreement between birds leasing branches to one other. Sure.). Whatever the circumstance, I’m glad it happened. For no discernible reason, seeing the cardinal made me feel hopeful about the day, excited. Courageous. It suppressed my sighs, and planted a great song in my heart.
Over the past few weeks, a few dad jay things have popped up. Nothing terrible. Nothing to fret over quite so much. But whenever there is any ordeal of this nature, the every day is not routine. They are special edition days, these ones. They are made up of takeout, of cereal, of more cups of tea than even I can drink. And when I go out, I wear heels, to make sure anyone I speak to – doctors, nurses, valet – pays attention to me, speaks to me, listens to me, communicates. I’ve basically been Xena the Warrior Princess Caregiver for three weeks, which is exhausting for someone who still watches cartoons and collects wrapping paper. Exhausting for the girl whose idea of a great time is this apricot meringue tart:
It seems repetitive to always turn to nature for inspiration, as I do for so many of these posts. But somehow it’s the kind of inspiration that brings me back to myself. Nature encapsulates something I’ve learned, all these challenging years. The sun that keeps spinning, the birds that sing in the rain, the plants that grow in the winter – they remind me to enjoy myself, to appreciate fineness, to languidly make one more cup of tea.
No matter what, enjoy yourself. Really. Chirp, chirp, chirp.