Happy Sunday, friends.
This video of a sledding bird is a great reminder that we need to make some time for fun every day. Wishing you all a creative, inspirational, and enjoyable Sunday. ☺
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Saturday, April 21, 2012
S is for Skylark
I have a soft spot in my heart for birds. The birds know this, so they stop by pretty regularly for the old bread and stale Cheerios I often throw out on the grass in the backyard.
I'm not sure my husband is so thrilled about the way I toss food around, but I love watching the robins and sparrows and the occasional blue jays and cardinals as they enjoy their snacks. The birds and I have a deal: I feed them, and they sing for me. That's fair, right? There are few sounds I enjoy more than birdsong, especially early in the morning.
But this post is about one bird in particular: the skylark. Or, rather, it's not. Because as much as I enjoy birds--and the skylark, although I've never seen one, seems like a nice one--this post is about another favorite skylark: my 1990 Buick Skylark, to be exact.
The Skylark was my first car. I bought it when I was in graduate school in 1994. Up until that point, I'd either walked everywhere or bummed rides from friends, so owning this car meant I finally had some real freedom. I drove everywhere, even to places I could have walked to, and I appointed myself the Official Driver for all Graduate School Students in English. (Okay, I didn't do that. But I did drive everyone to Hardee's once.)
I loved that car. It was a blue, four-door sedan with only the tiniest bit of rust, and I drove it until it just about fell apart. The day I traded it in for my second car, a 1995 Buick Century (yes, I see a pattern here!) was a sad, sad day. I have pictures of that moment as well, but let's concentrate on happy things, shall we?
All these years later, I still think about that car. I guess the memory of any first in life is important--even if it is just a vehicle.
What was your first car? Did it have any special meaning for you?
I'm not sure my husband is so thrilled about the way I toss food around, but I love watching the robins and sparrows and the occasional blue jays and cardinals as they enjoy their snacks. The birds and I have a deal: I feed them, and they sing for me. That's fair, right? There are few sounds I enjoy more than birdsong, especially early in the morning.
 |
| Dana and the Skylark, circa 1994 I believe this picture was taken the day I bought the car. |
The Skylark was my first car. I bought it when I was in graduate school in 1994. Up until that point, I'd either walked everywhere or bummed rides from friends, so owning this car meant I finally had some real freedom. I drove everywhere, even to places I could have walked to, and I appointed myself the Official Driver for all Graduate School Students in English. (Okay, I didn't do that. But I did drive everyone to Hardee's once.)
I loved that car. It was a blue, four-door sedan with only the tiniest bit of rust, and I drove it until it just about fell apart. The day I traded it in for my second car, a 1995 Buick Century (yes, I see a pattern here!) was a sad, sad day. I have pictures of that moment as well, but let's concentrate on happy things, shall we?
All these years later, I still think about that car. I guess the memory of any first in life is important--even if it is just a vehicle.
What was your first car? Did it have any special meaning for you?
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Chatter and song
Today's 100 words:
The birds must be holding some kind of caucus this morning. Their chatter is loud and insistent, and I love to imagine that they're hosting a public forum or city council meeting and discussing important things: no fly zones, the empty nest law, speeding, flying without a license, the dangers of drunken flying... As a teenager, I can remember being so annoyed by the birds: How dare they interrupt my sleep! Now, though, well out of my teens, I can appreciate them for their beauty and their song. And I can imagine that maybe sometimes they sing just for me.
The birds must be holding some kind of caucus this morning. Their chatter is loud and insistent, and I love to imagine that they're hosting a public forum or city council meeting and discussing important things: no fly zones, the empty nest law, speeding, flying without a license, the dangers of drunken flying... As a teenager, I can remember being so annoyed by the birds: How dare they interrupt my sleep! Now, though, well out of my teens, I can appreciate them for their beauty and their song. And I can imagine that maybe sometimes they sing just for me.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Ravens
Today's 100 words:
I saw two ravens this morning, both perched at the very top of adjacent trees, both swaying gently in a wind that was clearly evident so high in the air but less so down near the ground. I've often wondered why birds always seem to sit on the highest branches, but I suppose it's because the higher they are, the better they can see where their next meal is coming from, what unsuspecting animal will serve as their dinner or, for those who aren't carnivorous, what attractive plant or food morsel or pile of garbage will become their next feast.
I saw two ravens this morning, both perched at the very top of adjacent trees, both swaying gently in a wind that was clearly evident so high in the air but less so down near the ground. I've often wondered why birds always seem to sit on the highest branches, but I suppose it's because the higher they are, the better they can see where their next meal is coming from, what unsuspecting animal will serve as their dinner or, for those who aren't carnivorous, what attractive plant or food morsel or pile of garbage will become their next feast.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Dissonance
Today's 100 words:
Outside my window, birds chirp and traffic roars, and I still find it strange that the two aren't mutually exclusive, as they were when I lived out of town, away from the noises of the city--the sirens, the pulsing beat of rock music blaring from car stereos, the sudden cacophony of car horns, the screech of brakes--all of those sounds that make up a life lived close to others: neighbors only feet away, listening through their open windows to the sounds that come through my open windows, always knowing everything although they may never say a word.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Perspective
This morning's 100 words:
After dinner last night, as the kids played in their sandbox and I sat in a patio chair, watching them and reading, I did something I've since realized I rarely do: I looked up, and for the first time I really saw the sky, the robin's egg blue of it, its never-ending vastness awesome yet comforting at the same time, a mother folding her arms around her child. Birds soared, ascending through the blue, and squirrels leaped from tree to tree, dappled sunlight playing across their bodies.
Last night I realized how small I am.
After dinner last night, as the kids played in their sandbox and I sat in a patio chair, watching them and reading, I did something I've since realized I rarely do: I looked up, and for the first time I really saw the sky, the robin's egg blue of it, its never-ending vastness awesome yet comforting at the same time, a mother folding her arms around her child. Birds soared, ascending through the blue, and squirrels leaped from tree to tree, dappled sunlight playing across their bodies.
Last night I realized how small I am.
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