This is a post shared on my Slow Birding Community website and is reposted here for the month of November. Please take a moment to check out what the Slow Birding Community is all about and consider joining as a member to receive all the content found there. Thanks & enjoy!
Friends! I’ll be honest with you, it has not been an easy year. There have been some incredible highs and very steep struggles, some that aren’t over yet and will continue to need attention, vigilance, and compassion. And I’m not even talking about what’s going on in the broader community or even the world, for that matter. It can all feel like a lot, but if I shift my attention to reflect on the good, the kind, the positive, I find there’s also a lot of light all around me.
This week, my family and I spent our holiday break in a House of Covid. Luckily, only one of us had it, and it was mild. The rest of us escaped getting it (so far, so good). But we isolated to protect our elders, who would be at risk if they got it. As hard as it has been not to do all the things for the holiday, my crew really rose to the challenge of spending 24/7 together with some spontaneous crafting and jumping in to help make our meal yesterday extra yummy.
Today, we’ll head to the woods for some much-needed outside time and movement on the land. I’m actually looking forward to the chill of the air getting right into my bones and taking lots of deep breaths to pull in all the scents of late fall.
In that late fall spirit of dormancy, rest, and reflection, I share this invitation with you to frame your time outside this weekend and into the rest of the season.
First, I’ll share a poem from Mary Oliver, and then I’ll pull it apart into its prompts and invite you to use them on your sit spot sometime. Maybe take the prompts and write them down in your field journal or, as I’ll do today, jot them down on a slip of paper and slide them into your pocket to carry with you.
Feel free to circle back to this post and share some of what you experienced using these prompts in the comments below.
My best to you all! Stay cozy! ~ Bridget
GRATITUDE ~ Mary Oliver
What did you notice?
The dew-snail;
the low-flying sparrow;
the bat, on the wind, in the dark;
big-chested geese, in the V of sleekest performance;
the soft toad, patient in the hot sand;
the sweet-hungry ants;
the uproar of mice in the empty house;
the tin music of the cricket’s body;
the blouse of the goldenrod.
What did you hear?
The thrush greeting the morning;
the little bluebirds in their hot box;
the salty talk of the wren,
then the deep cup of the hour of silence.
When did you admire?
The oaks, letting down their dark and hairy fruit;
the carrot, rising in its elongated waist;
the onion, sheet after sheet, curved inward to the pale green wand;
at the end of summer the brassy dust, the almost liquid beauty of the flowers;
then the ferns, scrawned black by the frost.
What astonished you?
The swallows making their dip and turn over the water.
What would you like to see again?
My dog: her energy and exuberance, her willingness,
her language beyond all nimbleness of tongue,
her recklessness, her loyalty, her sweetness,
her strong legs, her curled black lip, her snap.
What was most tender?
Queen Anne’s lace, with its parsnip root;
the everlasting in its bonnets of wool;
the kinks and turns of the tupelo’s body;
the tall, blank banks of sand;
the clam, clamped down.
What was most wonderful?
The sea, and its wide shoulders;
the sea and its triangles;
the sea lying back on its long athlete’s spine.
What did you think was happening?
The green beast of the hummingbird;
the eye of the pond;
the wet face of the lily;
the bright, puckered knee of the broken oak;
the red tulip of the fox’s mouth;
the up-swing, the down-pour, the frayed sleeve of the first snow—
so the gods shake us from our sleep.
Here are the individual prompts for each stanza. See how they mesh into your Slow Birding practice. Please feel free to share your responses to these prompts in the comments below.
What did you notice?
What did you hear?
When did you admire?
What astonished you?
What would you like to see again?
What was most tender?
What was most wonderful?
What did you think was happening?