Red Bird

Stopped by the new/used bookstore in Old Town this morning after laundry, groceries, and a stop for greens and eggs at the farmers market. Hadn't been to this bookstore yet, but I wanted a Spanish language book. Nice store, and of course I overbought. Can't help it in a good bookstore. Today's add-on was a book of Mary Oliver poems. Love her.

Too bad I have no time to be indulging in poetry these days. I find myself very busy and still recovering at work and home for being away a week. But, that said, I can always find time to open a new book and at least read the first page. Having done so, I must share what I found. The name of this book is Red Bird. And so is the name of the first poem. I should add that I put a bird feeder on my window about three months ago and it has not been found. I can hear the chickadees out that window, but the trip to the feeder has evidently eluded them. I think the big fat squirrels know of its existence but cannot bridge the divide. Alas.

Regardless of my lack of red birds (we do have red foxes, I've seen two in town), I can appreciate Oliver's sentiment. May you have a red bird brighten your day. And much love and thanks to my parents who introduced me to the red bird (and his lovely green mate).

RED BIRD

Red bird came all winter
firing up the landscape
as nothing else could.

Of course I love the sparrows,
those dun-colored darlings,
so hungry and so many.

I am a God-fearing feeder of birds.
I know He has many children,
not all of them bold in spirit.

Still, for whatever reason—
perhaps because the winter is so long
and the sky is so black-blue,

or perhaps because the heart narrows
as often as it opens—
I am grateful

that red bird comes all winter
firing up the landscape
as nothing else can do.

Going to Tomorrow

On Sunday I'm going to Maine for a week-long training class. And in Romanian, the word "mâine" means tomorrow. So it occurred to me that I'm going to tomorrow on Sunday. Which is kind of fitting considering the Maine coast is as far east as one can go in this country, and tomorrow definitely comes sooner there than here on my edge-of-the-prairie western home.

And while that really doesn't mean anything, it did prompt me to hop back on the blog, a place where I am Seldom Seen these days. So an update:

I'm house hunting. I've decided that I'm stable enough, my credit's good enough, and this market is gentle enough that it's time to join the club. Tomorrow (the real tomorrow, not the east coast tomorrow) I am attending a first time homebuyers' class. I need the class to qualify for a local perk, but honestly who in my position couldn't use an education? Not much exists in my price range, and I may compromise with a condo before it's all over, but we'll see. I have a few months still before my lease is up. Stay tuned as I domesticate.

Spanish class started this week. Can't say much yet, but I remembered a long-ago-purchased book of Pablo Neruda poetry that I have on my shelf that is in both English and Spanish. I've been reading aloud the Spanish. My teacher suggested we check out Spanish-language childrens books from the library. My vocabulary, instead of being practical, will be the flowery language of Neruda love poems. "Monarca oscuro cuyo reino fue arena, bosque, mar y viento duro." (an unknown king whose country was sand, woods, sea, and the hard wind) Well...step by step.

I was lamenting recently that I haven't had anything interesting to say here lately, especially in comparison to last year's marathon blogging celebration of African American history month. I've barely noticed its passing this year. Then I remembered that last year I had MUCH more time on my hands. And maybe its a good thing this year that I haven't made a big blogging project. A sign that perhaps my living quotient has gone up in proportion to the blogging going down. I AM having a good time here, here in this Colorado life.

So I'll continue to add a note when I can, especially since I received a very nice comment a few days ago from a total stranger on an old post of mine. I'll try and share those sparkling insights (ahem) that I'm famous for. In the meantime, I'm packing and doing laundry for my trip to tomorrow. When I come back will it be yesterday?