Spring Song

A few days ago, a friend shared a time-lapse video of various flowers unfurling from bud into blossom. The video was set to music performed by violins and other string instruments. The production was so colorful, so enchanting, so beautiful that I had to watch it again and then share it with others. Given that our section of the U.S. has been suffering from a weeks-long deep freeze, the opportunity to watch flowers unfold -- even if it was on video -- was a treat that this lover of spring needed very badly. Consequently, I am grateful that March is here! Although it can be a fickle month with a warm day here and a remnant of winter there, I find March to be a hopeful month. It is the month when Daylight Saving Time begins again (March 8 this year) and, less than two weeks later, spring officially arrives with the vernal equinox (March 20). Already, the sky has more of a "spring" look to it. The sun seems brighter. The lilacs and azaleas and magnolias are holding tight to growing buds in a state of impatient waiting. I awaken to birdsong out our bedroom window. All about me is a spring song. I carry that song inside me, as well. With winter's cold and darkness soon to leave us, I might want to hurry March along, but I know that by focusing on mindfulness and absorbing each moment of this transitional month, I will witness the unfolding gifts of spring. They may not be as dramatic as the time-lapse flower video or be accompanied by the swelling strains of violins, but the song of spring is a sweet one. It is all I need to feel the joy of this new month and season.

Singing Trees and Whispering Winds

I usually associate the sounds of nature with spring and summer, but on one recent walk, I was greeted by two singing trees and whispering winds that made every dry leaf rustle.  As I approached the two trees, I could hear birdsong in growing volume.  All of a sudden, I realized that the birds were tucked inside the leafy canopies of the two side-by-side trees, releasing their voices in chorus.  And loud they were!  They chirped at a fast-paced staccato, darting back and forth and back and forth between the two canopies.  Was it a warning to each other that I, an intruder, was approaching or might it have been a reminder to get home and settled in for the night?  As my walk continued, the wind picked up and the drying leaves that still clung to trees rustled.  In particular, the yellow leaves of the maples glistened in the remaining sunlight, as a few fell and cascaded around me.  I enjoyed the contrast in color with the burning bushes showy in their scarlet and parchment hydrangea tree blossoms looking more settled and subdued.  My late mother always appreciated the nuances of nature.  As I get older, I find myself following suit.

For the Birds

While listening to bird songs on the Internet, I realized one recent day before the prolonged heat set in that I was hearing a house finch on my computer, as well as outside the open window.  It was fun to hear the call and response between the two, wondering if the bird outside was somehow attempting to communicate with the bird inside my computer.  In my quest to become more knowledgeable about our area's feathered friends this summer, I've not limited my education to their sounds.  I've also been working to identify more of them by sight.  During one evening walk at Devil's Lake State Park, I saw some shiny bluish-black birds with brown heads in a little cluster on the edge of a wooded area.  Could they be brown-headed cowbirds, I wondered? I'll never be an ornithologist, but I'm enjoying my attempts to expand my understanding and identification of the many delightful birds that break through the everyday sounds with their glorious song.

Spring Song

Fifty years ago, Rachel Carson's Silent Spring told of the deleterious effects of pesticides on the environment and how, at some point, our world could be absent of birdsong, thus a silent spring.  On a recent evening walk in our neighborhood, there was a chorus of warbles, chirps, cheeps and chatter as the birds communicated gaily all around me. At one intersection, four robins greeted me. In our verdant little community, gratefully, there was no silent spring that evening.  Rachel Carson is credited by many as having started the environmental movement, transforming us from a state of complacency to a place of heightened awareness and alert as to just what we were doing to the planet and to ourselves.  Thankfully, people heeded her call.  While there is still much to do (and I believe that we're slowly poisoning ourselves, which will likely be the subject of another post someday), there has been much progress.  And on that delightful spring evening recently, there was nothing as wonderful as hearing spring song everywhere.

Bookends

Recently, I posted to this blog that I enjoyed being serenaded by a chorus of what I believe are sparrows in some arbor vitae evergreen shrubs near the side entrance to the building in which I work. Now that we're approaching spring, I leave work once again while it is still daylight.  In so doing, I pass by the same arbor vitae on my way out as I do coming in each morning.  When it was dark as I exited, all was quiet in the shrubs.  But now that there is still at least a trickle of daylight as I leave, the feathered choir secreted in the evergreens is singing to me on my way out, providing me with chirpy music as bookends to my workday.  What a great way to begin and end my day -- with the happy chirps of probably a score of little birds.  They may just be chattering with each other, cautioning their neighbors that a human approaches, or possibly even chastising me for being around.  It doesn't really matter, for their voices still sound happy to me!  It's as if the little chorus sings "Good morning!" and "Good evening!" just for my pleasure.

A Chirpy Good Morning

Each morning, as I walk through our healing garden at work to the door closest to my office, I am greeted by a chirpy hello from myriad little birds nestled in a windbreak of arbor vitae evergreens.  Sadly, I can't identify many bird calls but I would believe that they are sparrows.  Theirs are happy little voices and I smile every time I hear them.  My walk takes me quite close to the arbor vitae so that the voices are practically singing in my ear.  I slow down as I pass by them, just to soak in the happiness they give for a few more seconds.  Those little birds offer me some daily lessons:  Starting your day with a song is good for your soul.  Finding something to smile about, even in the midst of the ordinary but especially during times of concern, re-frames your day.  Taking the time to cheer someone else, even with just a smile and hello, can lighten that person's load, if only for a moment.  So, to my little daily greeters, many thanks.  You're making a difference in my life and I'm sure to others who walk briskly by your evergreen home every morning.