S: M.A. Reilly Birds
1: I like to be reminded that that there are all kinds of knowing and unknowing in the world.
2: Beneath the window where I am writing this I have been stopping, called away you might say, and am listening to and watching birds.
5: So insistent are some as they use their beaks to move the very leaves that my family and I have neglected to rake from last fall.
6: They are I suspect in search of worms, insects, food that rests beneath. They work with an intensity few would not appreciate.
7: There is a kind of knowing, an indwelling here that needs to be learned, embodied, surrendered to.
8: We create environments by the decisions we make--be it in a schoolroom, a boardroom, or a bedroom. .
10: Contemplative experiences require agency and error.
12: Room and breath.
15: The birds are insistent. I wish I understood what their varied cries and calls meant.
17: It's a sound-alphabet I cannot decipher, cannot hear well to mimic. I can't seem to ease the birds from my mind.
18: It's like that moment in Hitchcock's masterpiece when you begin to really see the birds because they block the sunlight.
21: The world cools.
22: The birds have quit their rooting with the onslaught of Saturday lawn mowers and blowers. But they remain. In trees, between trees, on the deck railing across the street, on the wires that cross, I spot them. Their tweets and calls rise above from time to time the insistent motoring of mowers. I wish I knew more about birds, their songs and such.
24: Birds. Call. And sometimes, we answer.