No one wishes for it —
our aberrant year.
all we can do is adapt to the reality we are granted.
Remember it is a gift.
We can choose which truths to trust.
I don’t understand how this co-creation works;
I only know that it does.
So slow your steps.
Focus on your hands.
Make every action deliberate.
Give this the attention it deserves.
sparrows. redwings. bluebirds. robins. all in huge numbers. cardinals. another 65-plus day. and some of the trees starting to bloom. the abundance of birds is almost disturbing. junco. mourning dove. redbellied. some sort of flying insect. and another. redwings everywhere. noisy noisy. bluebirds in the oaks. quiet notes, right at the edge of hearing. it rained early and now everything is soft and gray. and warm. i am tying my shirt around my waist and it’s february. the first pale greens and reds showing in low places. redwings and redwings. a cardinal. leopard frog — what?! bluebirds onto the catbird trail. the edge of the pond. three more frogs. tiny fishes in the water weeds. and still redwings. bluejays. the old man’s moss. chickadees. nuthatches. aberrant female bluebird. white spots on her wings. prominent. and more bluebirds. house sparrows. noisy robins.
fieldnotes was written at the Marsh beginning Sept. 26, 2016 and ending near the same time in the following year, collected in memo books over the course of many rambling walks.
Beginning on Sept. 26, 2019, three years after the writing, fieldnotes will be published in its entirety, with posts appearing as the corresponding write-dates occur.
(at least to the best of my ability)