03/31/2021 1 By BuddyCushman

On a long walk late this morning I saw multiple birds, heard waves of bird songs, aerial lyrics, the winged span of an eagle passing away up-creek beyond my tardy glance. Robins and doves come to linger, jays in squacky conference, I could not say if there’s is play or debate or a brand of blue jay jazz. Ducks in flight, ducks on float. The inevitable crows. The morning sun shone warming through early spring clouds, the below-freezing dawn air changed, inviting, I’d say invigorating. For my flying friends as well as myself. And the childhood sound of birds in song gave me comfort and in-the-moment grace.

The remainder of this Tuesday, after the earliest morning rituals of prayer, meditation, coffee and reading, the never-skipped Morning Pages, the pleasure of waking to yet another day – multiply 365 times 72, add some 60 or so more, this grand blessing, all of which I’m aware…….

So when I say much of the rest of Tuesday was colored with mistake and regret, some remorse and glancing blows of melancholia…….well, I can do the math and I do the math, and lucky to be alive doesn’t cover it by a long shot. So, if the creek don’t rise and there ain’t no meltdown and I get to get up and try again Wednesday, well, there you go.