Covid forces/encourages more attention to immediate surroundings. This is in reality an important blessing hidden inside the curse. Because I am not moving around so much as I did, my life has slowed to the extent that I notice what I did not formerly. I have become more aware of the honking of geese overhead in the fall, added to the rasping cackle of the pheasant protesting being driven out of his shrinking cornfield. As I turned the holiday lights in the house on this morning, I found myself listening for the call of the mourning dove, so much the sound of spring and oncoming summer here. Peterson's guide locates us at the northern extent of that bird's range, so I suppose we may be able to count on that sound for a few years as climate changes everything around us.
The sun is two weeks stronger now than it was at solstice. I cheer for it, as the holiday lights are but a poor substitute.
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