Across the street from our house is a grove of old, tall tall trees of cedar & fir. This block is terribly lucky- most of these spaces are filled in with flat bottomed homes; not this patch.
6 trees. From where I sit it looks as if 1 or 2 more could have fit; a small forest reenactment, but the history of future city planning is fraught. In other words- this grove is a gift that I pray remains as is.
2 nights ago owl calls began. Owl calls are so woven into the background of life’s nights that unless it’s specifically loud- I fear the sounds might be lost to the wind. Like walking in jeans & no longer hearing thighs scrape. These owls- new neighbors. Last night was the 2nd night of their hooting & my heart is growing hopes that they’ll love their new accommodations & feel to stay.
Where were they before?
We walked in the dark to stand amongst the strong trunks, below the shaggy boughs, the burnt limbs- a nod at June’s oppressive heat dome. Soon the ground will be crunchy & snappy, but last night I don’t think we caused much of a stir with our presence. 2-3 owls could have been heard. 3- if the high pitched one was the baby my partner assumed it was. My own jury is out.
It is morning now & I am awake a bit more early than my preference, but having this still time to my lonesome is also an offering of sorts. A offering of time- which is one of the greatest offerings when the place is right.
A single candle has been lit, tea is steeping, & apart from the noise of being under countless flight paths- all of the rest I hear are other birds.
2 mornings ago when I went to brush my teeth I noticed a long parade of ants marching across the tiles from one door frame, up & over the sink, out to the window sill. There were clusters congregating. Who doesn’t stop to take in their behavior; wondering about social structure, work ethic, goals? How different really are we? A spider has taken up residency in the upper corner of the shower, about a foot from the water source. He is long & elegant. Legs for days. They each come to a wispy point. I’m constantly remarking how handsome he is. When I’m in there -it’s a happy place; I feel so at ease. Never taking for granted the hot water, comfort, privacy, sacred moment of cleansing, using all the elaborate lotions & potions to set me skin to 25 years of age. Spider is with me & I promise no harm. Last night I began to worry that I should take him outside: perhaps he was confused & would fair better in nature? More to eat. But I settled on giving him the benefit of the doubt as to knowing where he can thrive. Some beings can be alone. And he sees things my eyes are not sharp enough for. I spent time observing him, simultaneously hoping to instill no fear with my big human eyes. So beautiful. When I sang softly he moved around a bit. I couldn’t move out of minor chords. Maybe he was channeling. I tried to create a cathedral environment of sounds. I hoped he would only feel at ease. I wondered too- what he thought on, & how far we are from ever understanding each other. I even wondered if he got itchy & instantly he began to scratch his body! So there’s something there, & I have all the more fodder to take longer showers. Guilty pleasure indeed.
All of these observations begs the question- the tip of it at the very least: does the observer have part in interconnection? Or are we mere eyes? Eyes/ thoughts? Are spider & I interconnected simply by sharing space, or are we just coexisting?
Every body is an ecosystem. Every ecosystem interacts with neighboring ecosystems. This ant that has been running across the computer screen the whole time- are we connected beyond virtue of being in the same space? It’s not like she’s found my crumb source- per say. The owls- aside from soothing my last couple evenings & possibly infiltrating my dreams- are we connected? How many degrees? The tomatoes I plant> the rats that eat of them> owl supper… One obvious cycle yes, but this is “city living”, so without a garden – how do we connect? How am I giving to owl?
In the end- is it the tall trees that link us all? And is peace a projection? When I woke up this morning & sat cozily on my couch, looking up sounds of baby owls to listen to recorded distinctions between some; one sounding like static with a high pitched balloon-loosing-air finish, one sounding like a broken pony, one sounding like a sonar mammal- I sat in peace. The way the sun spills in the room, across this mustard yellow velvet couch- it just looks like equinox. Feels like equinox. Something is happening all around me. All the time.
Pigeon Heart Ponderings 