A Gradual Rebirth - May 2013

A lot has happened at the pond this month. I know I know, I say that every month but at the edges of the transition seasons it’s especially true. The Pond’s rebirth is a gradual one, allowing us the joy of bearing witness over many days. In looking at my May photo files, I’m struck by how the early May leaflets exploded into Memorial Day weekend lushness, providing camouflage for the grateful birds and their delicate cups of new life.  The next 2 photos of the causeway illustrate the transformation: the first was taken on May 2^nd, the second on May 24. 

 

As you can see, things have filled in nicely. Consequently toward the end of the month my photo files have fewer unobstructed bird shots, but that's a small price to pay for spring!  It had been a wet and foggy last part of the month, but the very end of the month is hot and humid, leading to even more acceleration of plant growth. The pond has the feel and look of a rain forest these days and that’s fine with me except for the boom in the mosquito population!  I console myself with DEET and the recognition that this time of year a new kind of flower greets every day.

We are welcoming back many more of our bird friends this month. The beloved red winged blackbird sings his familiar song from causeway and from the cattails down back. The orioles are back too, and my friend the chatty catbird, the little kinglet with his crazy song, the warblers, the yellow goldfinch, and many others. The tree swallow tries in vain to lift the swan’s bigger feathers from the water, but occasionally finds a manageably-sized prize to feather her nest.

I have enjoyed the return of several of the human visitors, familiar to me, to the pond as well. There is something nice about seeing the same people walking the pond morning after morning.  Folks often smile and say good morning here – my cousin actually refers to our pond as “Good Morning Pond” because of this. Every once in a while someone will strike up a conversation – what did I see today, or where did the spring go, some little pleasantry that gives me a better sense of who they are.  Since my work by necessity has me parked in a cubicle most of the day, I am grateful for the interaction with both nature and humans that the pond provides. And I feel a sense of community with the folks here. We may come down for different reasons - a place to escape to, to chat with a friend, to run around, or to experience a sense of peace and beauty - but the common thread that binds us is an appreciation for the many gifts our little gem of a pond provides.

Many have been anticipating the arrival of the spring baby birds, and have been checking on the swans’ nest way down back.  While watching the mother tenderly fuss over her eggs I’d hum a snippet from Amy Beach’s Peter Pan: 

“When the patient mother bird

Broodeth o’er each little one

Does she long to breathe a word

Of blue sky and golden sun?” 

(Peter Pan (after J. Andrews) for female Chorus and Piano, Boston 1923). 

Eventually we were rewarded with the sight of 3 adorable little cygnets gliding alongside their regal parents. Whoever wrote “The Ugly Duckling” obviously had never seen a cygnet. Precious and innocent, they depend on their folks’ vigilance, their own rapidly developing sensibility, and a huge dose of luck to survive. 

There are lots of other cute new arrivals at the pond. I heard at a party the other day that looking at a baby animal for 30 seconds improved people's moods. When I googled about this, I also saw a study that suggested it could make one more productive at work (see "The Power of Kawaii, http://www.plosone.org/article/info%3Adoi%2F10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0046362). Double bonus! Have a look at this cute little duckling and improve your day. :)

Of course anyone who has spent time at the pond has seen that not all these precious newborns make it. Those of you who know me have heard me rail against the suffering built into Mother Nature's balance sheet of predator and prey. But as we always have a chance to choose our perspective, today I choose to focus on the absolute miracle that new life is, what a pleasure to behold. I wish the babies well.

So yes, as always the pond is changing - new flowers, new babies, the gradual change in seasons. It’s good to see that things change and that they can change rapidly yet the pond takes it all in stride. Something for us to aspire to perhaps, to remain constant whether we are in a historic February storm or on a bench in a soft spring breeze. To know that whether life feels good or bad that it will change and can change quickly, to rejoice in and appreciate the good without holding on, and to hold on when things are bad because we know that feeling good can return.  The cycle of life continues for us, and after us. In the meantime, the breeze is soft right now, the pond is alive with sights sounds and smells, so we may as well take a deep breath and join the sparrows in their joyous song: Spring spring spring!