To my way of thinking (admittedly, not everyone’s), it’s hard to beat a prolonged time of paying attention. My favorite place to do that is (thank you, Annie Dillard) my own backyard.
Today I observed a flock of tiny sparrows. They scratched for food in the marshy grass and hop-flew en masse into a tangle of honeysuckle; then, unstartled, they returned in a grace of flurry to the grass to scratch again.
Today I observed a flock of tiny sparrows. They scratched for food in the marshy grass and hop-flew en masse into a tangle of honeysuckle; then, unstartled, they returned in a grace of flurry to the grass to scratch again.
Sparrows (I have learned by paying attention) are quite handsome little creatures. Today’s variety I admired for the warm brown stripes on its head and body: a song sparrow (Melospiza melodia). I frequently spot white-throated sparrows (Zonotrichia albicollis) and chipping sparrows (Spizella passerina), and how these richly-painted masterpieces came to be considered common I’ll never know.
Someone has said that if the stars appeared only one night a year, everyone would camp out to see them. I say that this kind of wonder blooms everyday in the heart of every two year old.
It is learnable.
It is learnable.
