Daily Observations and Trivia

Sometimes, as a matter of fact, most of the time, when I listen to our politicians and experts in televised, think-tank discussions concerning many of our nations problems, it seems to me that the problems are never reduced to their lowest terms. They talk little about the problem itself, but rather each offers some little stop-gap measure to fix this or that consequence of the problem. Sometimes it seems a contest to one-up one of the others sitting at the table by placing importance on a different consequence than the last participant to speak, or maybe they feel they have succeeded in uttering some wisdom that may have dazzled the entire group as well as those who may be viewing. Sometimes I am impressed.

Now, I have always assumed that all these folks were more intelligent than I, and I suppose that I may continue that assumption, but, sometimes, as I listen, I get the feeling that they just don’t fully understand the gravity of what they are discussing. It seems to weigh heavier on me. They never seem to get to the bottom of things. I find myself saying, “You are not talking about the problem. You’re talking, at best, about the obvious symptoms.”

Now, I used to think it was always easier to point out a problem than it was to fix it. Sadly, I’ve have been mistaken. Too frequently I now see our leaders and brilliant thinkers who cannot see beneath the symptoms, or are willing to ignore the problem and try only to figure a way to live with the consequences. There is only one way to prevent inevitable consequences; Acknowledge and understand the problem itself and fix IT.

The days are gradually lengthening and the mornings somewhat warmer these days, so, I’ve ventured out for morning walks recently. During the winter months walks are usually taken in the afternoon if at all.

Yesterday, I noticed the sun had climbed higher in the southern sky as it makes its way back to the northern hemisphere. The shadows were shorter on the north side of posts and trees; something I probably would not have readily noticed had I walked more frequently. It sparked an awareness and an appreciation for the continuous cycle of the changing seasons that goes on century after century. So subtle are the changes, that were the dates of the seasonal changes not marked on our calenders, we may not know exactly when they occur.

It is only the middle of February and already dandelion blooms are everywhere in the park. Honey bees are seen busily working these early blossoms in the morning sunshine and the trees are filled with the sound of song birds. The sound of bubbling, rippling water can be heard as the shallow river makes its way over the rocky bed near the road. There are so many sights and sounds to enjoy that the idea of a walk being for the benefit of exercise quickly fades. The walks refresh and inspire. Can one place exercise above these benefits?

This morning, as I sat at my desk sipping my coffee and reading my email, I heard the cheerful, and quite loud, song of a cardinal. The energetic and piercing refrain was coming from an area just outside my back door, so, I decided to see if I might get a glimpse of this happy fellow. Standing at the back door of our enclosed porch where it was somewhat darker than outside, I was able to watch, unobserved, the songster for several minutes as he performed in the best vocal quality he could attain. Not three feet from my face in his dazzling array of brilliant scarlet, he sang his heart out just for me, (or so I pretended).

There is a story of tragedy that his song brings to remembrance, however. Pairs of cardinals have attempted many times to raise a family in this same bush that grows beside the steps to the afore mentioned porch. We have made our home here for twenty-one years and only once in all those years have I known a pair of these beautiful red birds to successfully raise a brood there. The bush sits in a ninety degree angle formed by adjoining sections of the house and is well protected from strong winds, and even the sun for most of the day. As a matter of fact, some of the branches are so close to the porch that they are under the overhang of the eves. But, the one thing the nest is never protected from is the cascading water fall that flows off the porch roof in the heavy spring rains. It seems the birds always build the nest in the exact same fork of the bush, and every year it meets with the same disaster. The nest and eggs are dislodged from the fork and washed to the ground with the parent still sitting, bravely defending her home.

From the performance I witnessed this morning, I know another brave pair of cardinals is about to try once again, at great peril, to raise a brood there. Maybe the law of averages, if there be such a law, will be in their favor this year. Maybe I should pray that God will protect them since they obviously feel they are in a safe place.