We didn’t have very many owls around this winter but one made an appearance this morning. Well, it was an audio appearance. I walked outside to check out what was going on in the dark and he greeted me with his call. Sometimes you can hear an answer in the distance but I couldn’t. Life in the boonies.

One night when there was a lot of owls around they were making so much noise that they woke up the ravens roosting close by. And the darn ravens started mimicking the owl calls and all hell broke loose in the woods. I still don’t think that they have forgiven each other to this day.

Buddy Danna put up a poem on FB this morning and one of the lines in it was “untroubled by oblivion”. OK, there is something not quite OK about taking lines out of poems because they really belong at home in their context but I can’t help it. It is in a piece by Jan Zwicky entitled Recovery.
Well, why don’t I just copy and paste it right here for you.

RECOVERY } by Jan Zwicky

And when at last grief has dried you out, nearly
weightless, like a little bone, one day,
no reason in particular, the world decides to tug:
twinge under the breastbone, the sudden thought
you might stand up, walk to the door and
keep on going… And in the seconds following,
like the silence following the boom under the river ice, it all
seems possible, the egg-smooth clarity of the new-awakened,
rising, to stand, and walk… But already
at the edges of the crack, sorrow
starts to ooze, the brown stain spreading
and you think: there is no end to it.

But in the breaking, something else is given—not
that glittering jumble, shrieking and churning in the blind
centre of the afternoon,
but something else—a scent,
like a door flung open, a sudden downpour
through which you can still see the sun, derelict
in the neighbour’s field, the wren’s bright eye in the thicket.
As though on that day in August, or even July,
when you were first thinking of autumn, you remembered also
the last day of spring, which had passed
without your noticing. Something that easy, let go
without a thought, untroubled by oblivion,
a bird, a smile.

OK, so there, the whole thing. We will celebrate a poem and a poet right here right now. Well, walking in a few minutes and then a big long day. Time to get rolling.

Oh, forgot to mention Annie’s quote for the day. No time to comment but here is is: “My eyes are on the mountaintop, Tell you my feet straight ahead. For I hunger, I hunger after righteousness, Surely gonna be fed.” from Eyes on the Mountaintop by Rickie Byers & Michael Beckwith.

untroubled loves, Felipé.