This too shall pass

I don't know if it was a drill or a true panic, but the 6 Canada Geese - the gander, goose and their 6 quickly maturing gosling - just lickity-split across our front lawn in perfect, stiff legged formation, high-tailing it across the road to the safety of the pond. Who cares about a legitimate reason to fly off into a "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!!" fright these days! Dread and dire conjurings seem to be the mood du jour. Even in nature. And here I am in nature, back home again after having been in the city, New York City to be exact, for a rather long stint, and I'm feeling my own version of mild panic. Mine is more of the displaced, restless, who am I again? Where am I again? variety. Granted, this will pass, I know it, I've experienced it many times, I'm a vet, and I feel a bit foolish going through it all over again, having to conjure up patience with myself, to let it take its course. "Can't I just skip this part?!" Because it always FEELS like the first time. Like wandering through a bout of depression. 'This will never end! I want this over now!' screams some run-for-the-pond part of me. And the lens through which I view the world is that of a critic's. Everything needs FIXING! And there's not enough TIME! And THINGS, imaginary THINGS snap at my heels demanding attention, like self-imposed DEADLINES, and CHORES, and BILLS, and what am I doing with my LIFE and really? You really want to entertain what am I doing with my life thoughts TODAY when you're in a spin cycle of displaced, restlessness?

Sofia just came in through the pet door with a mouse clamped in her maw, a little gift to cheer me up. Thanks, Sofia.

Back from flushing that little morsel down the toilet. The air is alive with poultry sounds: the stereo crowing back and forth of our 2 roosters, one's at the coop, sounds like the Wellsummer, and the other's back to my left in the orchard, the Orpington, both in good voice, round, echoey tones; there's a mourning dove in the woods across the way, commisserating with my mood - thanks; there's various chatterings of sparrows and chickadees and other undefinables; every once in a while a goose argument whips up in the backyard - OUR geese this time - and vanishes away. And quiet surrounds it all, embraces it all. Well, not quite. There have been a few big trucks, moving van size trucks, laden with wood chips passing by, incongruously LOUD. Here comes one now, I can hear it's engine's strain coming up our gradual incline.

Oh, it would feel so GREAT some days to be able to join a clutch of Canada Geese, strip down to just feathers, and for no reason at all, maybe to just get it out of my system, run screaming across the front lawn, screaming out the world, screaming out whatever thought or feeling might be residing inside me, weighing me down, and just head for the pond, swim away from it all. Or just shit along the banks all day and have someone else clean it up. Ho-hum. Maybe a little molting too. Make room for new feathers, new skin, new thoughts. That would be grand.

I'm off for a walk. Have a grand day!