Carving Out Time

I'm feeling the need to find a few moments to slow down a little. This morning I'm sitting on my deck as the sun comes up, watching a cloud bank roll in from the west.

I hear the insects squeaking like violins in the weeds down by the water. I hear a bird call out to its companion, then I hear another bird call back. The soft sun rises ever higher in the sky, revealing itself to be the fireball it truly is.

I hear a train sweetly whistling in the distance. I hear cows calling lowly to each other, far away.

As the sun heats the air, it sends tiny puffs and gusts my way, cooling my face in the sudden new heat. On the other side of me, the wind drives the rain clouds closer, buffeting me gently as well, bits of gusts and breezes kissing me intermittently.

I'm not awakening with screen time, I'm not turning on the television, I'm not staring at my phone. I am centering myself. It will be a busy week, and that's ok. But now, I look at the long shadows cast by the rising sun, and I see a tall version of myself behind me, the folded patio umbrella as tall as a tree in silhouette.

Yesterday, as we sat quietly and talked, a small flock of wild turkeys calmly walked out of the trees and disappeared into the cattails in order to get a drink of water. They were of varying sizes, so it was hard to discern whether they were all from the same family or not. Clearly there were two adults, with their bluish bald heads, and three or four juveniles.

But there was one much smaller chick, doing just fine, holding its own with the group. Could it be some kind of runt from the same clutch, or is it really a much younger turkey with the flock? Perhaps one of the larger birds is another adult on its own, and this is her single chick. I can't say.

But, they happily grazed around, discretely watching for predators, casually picking bugs and grains out of the grass, and then walking around seemingly looking for a new path. They had come from the southeast, and at first it seemed they were going to try and walk around the lake to the northwest. It seemed as though the lead turkey started calculating and decided to take a chance. They would make better time to fly over the lake as a group, rather than walk through the grasses around it. They would be exposed doing so, and the leader would have to act quickly. He seemed to call to the group briefly, and then took off, his big body flapping hard - I'm amazed how strong they are and how fast they can fly for their size. One by one, the other turkeys launched into the air and flew out behind and around him.

To myself I thought, "Oh, the littlest one won't be able to fly yet, they'll have to figure it out and circle back for her and walk after all." But to my surprise, she could fly too, and with no hesitation, cruised right along behind them. Wow, even little turkeys can fly - who knew?

Good luck, little turkey, and Godspeed. Don't let the dogs, the raccoons, the coyotes, or the humans get you. I love you, little feathered dinosaurs. Please come back and see me sometime soon.

There Was a Time

There was a time before Twitter, hash tags and snap chat. There was a time before a college girl would walk up to my barista station while face timing and talking loudly on her phone right in the middle of trying to order, as she acted as though I was interrupting her. As I patiently waited through her going back to her conversation, back and forth, as I waited to take her order and serve her.

There was a time before every college student had his or her phone out, scrolling through it, eyes down, as s/he walked through campus. There was a time before everyone had ear buds in, and now wireless ear buds sticking out of their ears.

There was a time before I secretly cringed as a student walked up to me, and I prayed he wouldn't order the frappuccino with all the syrups and sugars, while also ordering a chocolate chunk muffin to be washed down by it into his belly. I prayed he wouldn't try to give himself diabetes. But he ordered it anyway, over and over again.

Long ago, there was a time my parents held me in their arms when I was a tiny baby. I don't remember this, but I know they did. When I can't sleep, I like to imagine this. I see my father with his blue eyes and dark, neatly combed hair, cradling me in his arms as he held me, folding me in with all his love, protecting me. My father died too young, but bravely, doing what he loved. It broke my heart. It was a time in my life when I lived far away from him, overwhelmed with caring for my three young children, one of them quite disabled. Things are better now, but I was quite home bound and exhausted at that time. I wasn't able to immediately fly out to see him at the end. My father was my hero, and that loss changed me in profound ways.

I also imagine and remember my patient mother holding me, the warmth of her lap and arms comforting me as she rocked me. She with her strong faith, her quietness, her groundedness, I looking up at her face as she looked out, calmly. Always there for me, always thinking of the rest of us, intelligently keeping us safe and well, partly with the good medical advice she had gleaned from doctor visits and a lifetime of experience. She didn't feel the need to run around with flocks of women - she did have good friends, though, and loved quietly reading at home, reading classics, fiction, and the bible, providing the love in our nest.

There was a time before skateboarders rode their boards and hover boards clandestinely but openly down the school hallways, as if they were better than the rest of us and didn't have to follow the rules. There was a time when the family came home to eat dinner together. A time when everything we didn't eat wasn't thrown in dumpsters and landfills.

I remember a time before giant storms wrecked the Bahamas, Florida, the Carolinas, the Texas coasts, and then turned around and hammered it all again. Before offshore oil rigs exploded and leaked toxic fossil products into the ocean for weeks. A time when our oceans and beaches were not chock-full of plastics and other garbage.

There was a time before giant wildfires raged in California, in Canada, in the Amazon rain forests, in Alaska and Siberia. Before person after person wielded firearms and with one squeeze of a little trigger cut down dozens of people in schools, shopping malls and movie theaters. There was a time before people hijacked airplanes and committed suicide and homicide by flying the planes into giant skyscrapers, causing the buildings to crumple as if they were card houses, killing thousands.

There used to be many more than just two northern white rhinos left in the wild. Will the subspecies be able to survive from the embryos scientists created through IVF? I think it's doubtful.

There was a time before people injected their faces with Botox and fillers, before we were fascinated with "Housewives" and Kardashian/Jenners rather than our own friends and neighbors. Before we felt panicked when we were without our phone chargers and fitness trackers and GPS devices to find our way.

Today is Friday the 13th. It feels like Friday the 13th. It feels like the Groundhog Day Friday the 13th of history. The foreboding of a downfall. The signs are clear. We are warned. The warnings are screaming at us. Are we listening? But -- there is always hope. Humans can be great, they can be astonishing, and they can be terrible. We have free will. We have choice. Are we going to be great, or are we going to be terrible? Let us choose, boldly choose, to be great. Let us have hope. Now and forevermore, amen.