Today we went to Carpenter Nature Center for a raptor release event being run by the Minnesota Raptor Center. Ironically we didn't make it in time to see the first batch of releasees and had to leave before the second batch. So the only birds we saw are the ones that will never be released. Birds that are too damaged either physically or psychologically to survive in the wild. Barred owl, great horned owl, peregrine falcon, bald eagle, black vulture, kestrel, merlin... I really didn't want to post today. I think maybe because I skipped yesterday and that always puts a pall on the act of writing. Maybe because I don't feel particularly wordlike. Wordy? Wordificant. I have nothing wordificant to say. I have been told by many people in person that they are impressed by my courage in writing this blog. "That takes guts." I'm not sure why. The things I write are the same things that I tell people in person (when persons and I are on speaking terms). Courageous would be allowing strangers to comment on blog posts. Oh, wait, that would just be stupid. The two are so easily confused. I didn't check my email today and I don't want to. Or facebook. I just want to hunker down and hibernate. For no particular reason, you understand. That is just my general inclincation at this time. So instead I am going over to my neighbor's house to chat and have tea. The inner grown-up in me (fighting to be heard most days) has decided to do things that I know are good for me even if I don't particularly feel like doing so. This means i can be done trying to come up with anything pithy and just log off. La! Grateful Crap: kids who dragged their parents out of the house to drive half an hour to see raptors in the rain. Daily Convexions: took meds (150mg sertraline, 450mg bupropion) slept really a super lot. maybe too much. Side note: I have disturbingly had Emily Dickenson's poem "The Heart Asks Pleasure First" on continuous repeat in my brain. That and something irritatingly familiar that I am convinced is by Tchaikovsky but I cannot for the life of me find it. It will no doubt wake me in the middle of the night with its obviousness. Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |