SQD4: The Peace of Wild Things

Self-quarantine day 4.

Alexa is playing some Tchaikovsky for me as I write and take care of things at my desk. So much better than listening to the ever-worsening news about the coronavirus and its effects worldwide.

When we returned to the US, Mui and I made a pact to ration our exposure to the pandemic news. We watch the news for an hour each in the morning, at noon, and in the evening. That's it. Just enough to be apprised of the latest updates.

It's been another routine day at home. Bodies totally adjusted to MDT now, we were up early as usual. I like this because it means that we can take care of our daily batch of chores pretty early before turning our attention to doing fun things.

It wasn't until later in the morning that the wind picked up, so it was truly delightful to be sitting out on the deck between chores ... enjoying the warmth of the sun shining bright. I'm glad we decided to settle here in Colorado where the promise of 300 days of sunshine continues to hold true.

We took a long walk in the neighborhood today. Our destination was a house being constructed on a nearby street to see if we could spy a couple of barn owls that have taken up residence in the eaves. Alas, no luck today, but we'll keep checking.

All in all ... a good day.

Stay safe ... stay healthy. And find peace where you can ... including in wild things.

I'll admit that I stole the idea for this from a fellow-blogger — yes, I still think of myself as a blogger even though I am now using FindPenguins. Reading Laurel's post on "Raven & Chickadee" (https://ravenandchickadee.com/), I was filled with a sense of peace. No wood drakes or great herons around here, but the antelope were on the plains across from the house again this morning. And we did spot a mountain bluebird in the neighborhood. Seeing wildlife always brings a smile to our faces ... something we all need more than ever before.

The Peace of Wild Things ... by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.Read more