Loving the Morning Cacophony

And the scurrying, scratching, climbing critters that dance to the music

Images from my deck last summer.

When I woke up this morning, the sky was gray. A cold drizzle was coming down steadily. The trees were still bare, the last vestiges of the snowmounds were still in place, and the yard was nothing but soggy, mossy clumps of soil.

I had already checked the news headlines, because my aching old body had me awake at 3 AM, and what else does one do in the wee hours? I knew that war was raging, politicians were posturing and pretending, and that the climate was dooming us all to a fiery death.

In other words, I woke up with very little faith that it would be a good day.

But then I climbed out of my warm, entangled blankets, rubbed my dry eyes, and peeked out the window. I popped in my hearing aids and opened the window just a crack.

As I breathed in the cold, wet air, I felt a bit better. I could smell the earth after long months of frozen ground! As I looked into the yard, I saw at least five grey squirrels. Some were chasing each other up and down the trees, while others were working diligently to dig up the many acorns they’d buried last fall. I watched the diggers find their treasures and sit back to eat. I had to laugh. They looked so incredibly self-satisfied!

And between the diggers and the chasers, several little red squirrels ran back and forth. I am not sure what they were looking for, but they were very excited. As were the three chipmunks who emerged from under a fallen log and began to dig under the wet leaves.

It looked like a well-choreographed dance, to be honest. I was above, looking down at the stage as each individual played their part in running, jumping, digging, and sitting happily still.

The image of dancing came into my head as my ears began to recognize the musical background to the performance. Like a good orchestra that shapes the mood of every performance, the birds in our yard were a beautiful background to the drama. The chirps of the cardinals, the peeps of the finches, and the song of the wrens. It all made a lovely soundtrack. The jays and the chickadees were the percussion, adding squawks, caws and “dee-dee-dees” to the sound.

I stood there for about ten minutes, just letting it all fill my aching heart.

My body was still achy, my eyes still blurred. The wars and violence and stupidity of humanity still raged on, and the climate continued to warm.

But for the first time in months, I felt at peace.

I sincerely hope that humans will survive the current times. I suspect that in some form or other, we will.

But I also feel certain that life on this little blue planet will continue, with or without us.

That gives me some sense of peace.