Birds Gather

Today, while driving down a favorite street of ours, I spotted the large wings of a Texas Turkey Vulture. I shouted for August to look ahead and she only caught a piece of that scene. As we pulled up to a house, there he was, perched on the roof like some antique, cast iron decoration. August exclaimed that he looked majestic and full of pride. We circled around just to see him in all his dignity. 

"How did you even see him, Momee?" I manage to catch a lot of neat little scenes. I told her just being aware and present helps. Sometimes they are symbols meant only for a certain person, so perhaps I was meant to see this bird at this moment. The birds in this area are something to observed and make note of. The other day, as I removed canvas drop cloths from the plants and garden, I heard the annoying, high pitched squawking of a hawk. Their calls do not match their auras. It flew right over, excited about something. 

The vultures gather and begin their kettling in the early morning and go on all day and into the evening. I feel it massages all negativity out of the area. They trade off, going round and round in their groups. If you  watch long enough, perhaps from a hammock, on a sunny day, they will make you drowsy and invite you to nap. The other evening there were grackles flying with them. The grackles were loudly announcing themselves. August said they were probably saying,"Weee look at us, we are flying with big birds." It made me laugh. It did seem that way. I want her to be aware of her natural world, to learn how to read it and feel it. It's one of the benfits of being away from a city right now.

Our Birds, the ones who wait on us to  feed them, have started to tap at our windows, signaling us to step out with some feed. We do. They gather above us, watch and once we leave they head for the bird seed. Some have even followed us as we walk down the street. We can't complain about these little totems who do appear to bring us messages. We love to see the birds gather.

It's going to snow...

We got 11.2 inches of snow, it was amazing, it was wonderful! On Monday morning my daughter woke me up at 5:45 am to take her out in the snow. I had the alarm set for 6 am. We got dressed in all the wool and snow gear I had been collecting for years and out we went. We threw snowballs, made snow angels, walked around the street and then returned home for breakfast. No sooner did we enter our home when the electricity shut off. We had hot water for several hours after the shut off which was a blessing.

I ordered a curbside and added a small grill and charcoal to it, hot canned soups, bread and cheese. When we arrived for pick up there was a long line of people wrapped around the store. We had already passed several lines for gas and food on the way there. We had gassed up just a few days before. The store was already out of water and more snow was expected the next day. Without electricity I was unable to really cook all the meals I had planned, but what was coming, I was sure, would be more fun.

As a native Texan, in this part of the state, you get use to the snow melting immediately. There is only one tiny ice or snow event a year, maybe every two years. It only lasts a few hours. But we had been watching the cutter ants lately, we noticed new birds hanging out and the bunnies had been going crazy. I took that all as a sign that something different was about to happen. More snow was predicted but... so often  that sort of thing passes us, miles away. However, I was still hoping for more snow. I had been wrong in the past, how do you think I came to collect so much fantastic outwear? Preparing for a snowstorm but always met with disappointment.

We remained without electricity until Friday night, luckier than most. I had already warmed up soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches, hot tea and warmed up bath water on the tiny grill. It brought back bad memories of living with the father of my child who had decided to just stop working several months before she was born and for several months after. Memories I  thought were long gone all returned. I remember living with no electricity and running water. We lived in terrible conditions, and I hate myself for not leaving the hospital and driving eight hours home, but a newborn and single mother are vulnerable creatures, that just wasn't possible. 

As the months went on my daughter and I found ourselves in a freezing cold shack, sleeping on the floor in OK, in the winter. There wasn't hot water there for several weeks and I learned to boil water in a stock pot to mix with icy water, and created enough water to shower. I learned to stretch food, I learned to cry and I learned how not to. I learned how to focus only on my child and to make her the very best with what I had, I learned I had magic and could give her beautiful worlds, I learned how to be present with her. I learned how to ignore, how to fall out of love and how to not be present with an abusive alcoholic. I learned how to make money out of a box of possessions I never thought I could part with. I learned how to take photos that made everyone think I am doing great and how to hide all the ugliness. Bad times. 

As the lovely snow became a nightmare for Texans, I started to read comments and had friends tell me about terrible, vivid nightmares they were having. While I didn't have nightmares, during the day I was struggling to fight off those terrible memories of the most awful person I've ever met. I wondered if it was PTSD or just a collective purging of negativity brought on by the weather. I started hearing of this before utilities started shutting off all over the state. Before traumatizing conditions began to hit the people in my state. Then it was Saturday and Sunday and it was beautiful and warm, the amazing snow was gone, long gone, like it never happened. The electricity and water had been restored. What had just happened? So much had transpired in a week. 

What we have not been able to stop talking about to each other is just how magical the field looked. Just out of a storybook. It reminded us of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. We were completely transported. It was an enchanting shock to our reality. I don't think we have been able to sleep all that great because that much snow, that much wishing for that much snow, here, my whole life, was just too much to process at the time. The joy in being able to experience it with my child, in a place where something like that not only never happens, but is never expected to happen. Magical. We collected snow to make snow cones with real blueberries and we poured condensed milk and maple syrup to make snow cream. We laughed because August had told everyone, the week before, that snow was coming. Her class just scoffed and her teacher said, "There is only a slight chance." She said, "No, it's going to snow!"

From Cooing to Confetti...

Once January passes, the mourning pigeons can be heard cooing and my mind goes back to being pregnant and how the last trimester felt. It's so vivid. I remember roses, daffodils and rain lilies that I would see on walks that March, the dogwood trees and their flowers, and the moist, fragrant air. I was fortunate enough to have had a very blissful and uneventful pregnancy. It was a very introspective time and I didn't share much, except for a few selfies here and there. There was so  much joy I was feeling and nothing I could say or write would capture it. I am thankful for a few selfies, my smiling eyes say it all.

I would watch a French documentary called Babies, over and over and listened to a lot of David Bowie and Elo as I worked on a birthing playlist.  I had a 400 page book that I wanted to finish on attachment parenting. I did manage to finish it the week before she was born and felt ready. As if that book held all I needed to know. There was a lot of list making in a notebook, not so much the  nesting. 

The weeks that led to motherhood were both lazy and jubilant. I did a lot of stretching and walking and other low keyed exercises. I remember eating sweet potatoes and drinking lots of smoothies. August is a huge veggie lover and I guess it came from what I ate during pregnancy. She cannot resist fruits, vegetables, cream or Indian food. Not much of a sweet tooth or cheese lover and those are things I didn't consume too much of. I had an aversion to potato chips, any sort of chip and later chocolate.

Each February the wave of memories begin and give way to what came after that Spring. This is the time of year I pick up a crocheting or knitting project for her. That year I made her the sweetest little top and a muslin swaddling blanket with pink crocheted trim. It's the time of year when I make Pavlova's and take walks with her. Every day after school, we  must take our walk and collect sticks to paint and unusual  rocks.

It is interesting how traditions and rituals come about. So much of what we do together we have always done together, we have been walking and enjoying the flowers together a full nine months before she landed in my arms. We cannot resist a celebration, however big or small. This past year it's meant more than ever.

I remember the curmudgeon in our life who was completely uninspired by us, and really disliked our tiny confetti and whipped cream festivities, our fun, foods and decorations. We can't stop being who we are. We just celebrated Candlemas and before Valentine's Day is the Lunar New Year and how can anyone just gloss over that? January still feels like Christmas to us. February has always felt like the start of the new year. I believe it got started with the cooing, forever the sounds of a new start.

Celebrating needs music, it's time we got a piano.