The sun has emerged after the two day snowstorm, bringing us one day closer to the miraculous change of spring time. Pearl is snoring by the big patio window, awaiting our daily walk together. The crows have taken over the park and I look forward to hearing and seeing them. I am grateful for their presence in our lives.
Tomaso is the only person I know who had a pet crow. The crow was wounded and Tomaso rescued it. He took it home to heal. When it was time to set it free, the crow hung around and responded to Tomaso’s friendly invitation to come back for a unique tidbit only a crow would enjoy.
Brother Delaney and Tomaso had what I call the Saint Francis affect in common. As I read over Delaney‘s correspondence we had over the four year period, ending in his death, he elaborated on his love for local raccoons, whom he fed every evening before dusk. He also had a pet squirrel I met briefly when I visited after Delaney‘s passing. The squirrel looked at me inquisitively nose to nose on the mailbox, scampered off never to return again. Our connection in that moment revealed the truth of the end of their physical connection.
The birds are hungry this time of year and I really “should” put up the bird feeders Tomaso carefully chose before his death. Right now they are in the basement. Feeding the birds also entails feeding the squirrels, which would provide an infinite amount of entertainment for Pearl, and for me as I watch all of the inter-species communication, and listen to the drama arising from their banter.
The simplicity of life may seem boring to some, as we enter the final stages of the pandemic, although as new CV19 variances arise, we may be in for the long-haul.
Pearl and I are inviting friends to join us on our park walks. The weather will soon break free of the winter. OM
