Buzzie and Me, 1992
For me, it doesn’t get any better than early springtime. Out of the bleak beauty of winter, the drab earth and the hardened soil, life arises from its slumber. Flowering trees, celebrating birds, softening temperatures, with great mystery, it all changes. So reassuring, so rewarding, so remarkable, the world around us becomes different; emerald green now blankets my yard. The initial spring rush of visual astonishment will be replaced soon enough by more habitual eyes. But for now, a feast for the eyes and heart it surely is.
The best of the spring-tide changes for me lives in the return of the birds. From the silence of winter, we now descend into a cacophony of birdsong. The birds lighten me up like nothing else, perhaps because of my rich avian experiences in childhood and adulthood.
Birds do live deeply in me. The parakeets of my childhood brought solace and companionship; Buzz the Cockatiel of my adulthood gifted me with relationship deep and true, showing me my capacity to nourish and to love another. The influx of spring sensory deliciousness returns me back to that deep internal knowing—the feel of a bird against my face, its tiny clawed feet on my shoulder. The renewal offered us in spring, in itself beyond-remarkable, also washes over me with ancient avian memories, held so snugly inside my heart.
Here is a twenty-eight second video of the wetlands behind my house, place of great bird celebration. I hope you can both hear and see the joyful commotion, the full aliveness these bird visitors bring to our neighborhood. Listening to them makes me beyond- happy.
What have you notice in your world of springtime? Both current—this morning—or decades ago, what are the memories, the visuals, the awakenings in you that blow open your heart this time of year? All experiences welcomed—all responses sacred. I love hearing from you. My email is email@example.com. Let’s share the mystery.