Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: birds


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Why does this happen?

Coming home from work last night I knew there was something wrong when the normal weather and traffic was interrupted for a CBS Special Report.  Who, I wondered, had died?  Turns out many people, children included.  Turns out for an Oklahoma community the world turned upside down in an instant.  Literally.

The pictures, the video, the grand scope of the devastation is overwhelming and painful to watch.  It must be even beyond that to actually experience.  I watched a mother being interviewed as first responders scrambled through the leveled elementary school behind her.  “Why does this happen?” she asked.  She couldn’t find her sister or her niece.   At that point in the evening six people were confirmed dead, two of them children.

Why does this happen?  Who can understand when terrible things happen to people?  How can we move forward when such terrible things happen so randomly.  How can we ever feel safe?  And what can we do to help those families in the throes of grief right now?

I went to bed feeling sad.  I woke with a sense of dark, heavy dread.  I knew by now the death toll would be more than six.  This morning it is twenty-four, nine of them children.  The heaviness settles deeper into my heart.

We’re expecting storms here this morning.  Very soon.  They sky is dark and heavy, reflecting the way I feel.  I ask Katie to hurry outside so that we can beat the rain.  The air is thick, the trees still.  Waiting.  Waiting.  I keep an eye on the sky, Katie keeps her nose in the air.  Things happen randomly.  You never know.  Bad things happen everywhere.

As I watch the sky two dark shapes swoop low.  I am startled and then mesmerized.   A pair of sand hill cranes flies overhead.  Very very low,  very slow, almost silent.  Instead of their usual noisy screeching they are cooing gently to each other.   I hold my breath and watch them.  They disappear behind a line of trees across the street.  Stunning.

You see?  Amidst the fear and sadness and confusion there is beauty.  And we rarely ask why.  Why did these two magnificent birds choose to fly right over my head so early on such a sad morning?  I don’t know.  Maybe I don’t have to know why these thing happen.  Maybe I just have to move ahead and live.

And send some money to the Red Cross… for Oklahoma.


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Attack of the robins!

Gotta watch out for crazy birds!

Gotta watch out for crazy birds!

Katie and I were outside this morning, just as the sun was coming up.  She was sniffing around looking for the perfect place when from across the street two robins flew up from the lawn, flapping their wings and screeching at each other.  Up and down they flew, chest against chest, then they began chasing each other in larger and larger circles still screeching.   Soon other robins entered the fray, and they all began swooping and diving in a frantic dance.  The swarm of robins burst across the road, diving around our heads, then spun around a tree, then flew back across the road where they all dissipated, each to a separate tree except for two who ended up on the lawn where it all began.

Katie and I looked at each other.  “Well that was weird” I said.   She nodded and finished up what we were out there to do.   We headed inside for breakfast.

Morning peace was restored.


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I heard the red-winged sing

Daffy Daffodils

Daffy Daffodils

The weather guy forecasts more cold days, maybe even some snow for the coming week.  But I’m not discouraged.  We were momentarily in the 50’sF (10 C) on Friday and again today.  We saw a tiny bit of sun.  And repeatedly I’ve heard and seen the sand hill crane screeching across the sky.

But today I heard the red-winged blackbird sing which is proof positive that it is spring regardless of the weather guy’s prediction.  On a quick tour of the yard Katie and I found even more evidence; little bits of green poking their heads cautiously out of the mulch.

Sedum hides beneath the fall leaves.

Sedum hides beneath the fall leaves.

Brave little souls aren’t they.

Poppies poke nervously toward summer.

Poppies poke nervously toward summer.

Katie and I went looking for the snowdrops we know come up behind the house, and there they were!  Fewer this year but still blooming their little hearts out for us.

It's springtime in their hearts.

It’s springtime in their hearts.

And the clincher that it must be spring?

Almost got him!

Almost got him!

Katie chased her season’s first chipmunk up the drainpipe.

Yep, we’ll probably be roasting hotdogs on the grill any day now.

Geranium greets spring.

Geranium greets spring.


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Saw a pilated woodpecker today!

It was so cool!  Have you ever seen one?  I did not have a camera with me which was a shame, because he was RIGHT THERE and it would have been a great shot.  Here, I’ll find you a picture of one from the web:

woodpeckerI’m sure my photo would have looked just like this.  Of course.

Anyway…isn’t he cool!  He’s quite large, and very distinctive.  You can learn more about him here.

This is the kind of thing I would have called and told my Mom about in the old days.  I’ve seen this bird only twice before; once at her lake house down in Alabama and once up in Northport along the ridge above Lake Michigan.

Since I can’t tell her about it I’m sharing with you.  I know many of you are bird people, so you’ll appreciate how excited I was.

It’s still making me smile.


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Man, moon and hummingbird

Last weekend two things made me sad.  I heard that Neil Armstrong died and so did one of my hummingbirds.  Katie and I were sitting on the deck reading a book.  Well.  I was reading and she was napping.  The hummingbirds were buzzing around, chasing each other away from the feeder.  A female hovered right in front of my face and stared at me for a bit.  I wasn’t sure how many hummers we had, they moved so fast; zipping through the trees, over the house, back again to the feeder.

When I got up to go back into the house Katie sniffed at what I thought was a leaf on the deck, but wasn’t particularly interested.  I glanced over at the leaf and realized with a breaking heart that it was one of my hummingbirds.  There was a tiny spot on the window, and the poor bird was lying dead on the deck.   I was overwhelmed with grief out of proportion to my actual loss.  I love watching my hummers at the feeder.  They are there because I put the feeder there.  This poor little female was dead because I put the feeder there.

I picked her up and stroked her soft feathers.  She weighed nothing at all.  But she was beautiful.  The sun made her feathers glow, and I took her down the hill and put her on a nest of thistle fluff at the base of an oak tree along with a flower from the garden we passed.  I wanted her feathers to glow with the last rays of the sun just a little longer.  One last time.

I cried the whole time I mowed the yard.

When the sun slipped behind the trees I buried her, along with some flower petals and a bit of goldenrod, beneath our butterfly bush.  That evening I sent her on her way and hoped she and Mr. Armstrong were both flying over the moon.  The next day a male and a female hummingbird visited the feeder.  I wonder if they miss her.  I do.

Tonight as I watched the full moon swing up into the night sky I thought of them both.  And I winked, just the way his family asked us to.  God speed to you both Neil and my little one.  God speed.