After some hard rains, I’m looking out over the pasturelands and the Bay beyond. Last week the arches of color, the rainbows, appeared. There’s now a small stream flowing through one pasture and quite a lake in another. I observe the birds. Flocks of fowl. Many of them are residents of these hilly lands and open plains. In a few minutes of observation I notice the diversity. I see gulls and geese, crows and ducks, turkey vultures, egrets and a great blue (heron). Hummingbirds rise and fall above small trees where their nests are deeply hidden. Hawks circle high over the land (the other night on our walk we saw a white owl swooping between eucalyptus and pines. Later we heard great horned owls hooting in the dark oak hills).
All live and move in this field and the field of view. All rising to swoop and spy and play, I guess; all descending to eat while they chirp, squawk and chatter. . .or make music, as I hear it. When they aren’t standing silent and still.
This is a wonderful scene with the watery green backdrop of late autumn.
And it leaves me wondering what we could learn from this Life in the Pastureland. We are another species–earthbound without wings. So we share the same pastureland, the greening earth, going about our days seeking food and safety and rest and other things we cannot name. With birds as our teachers, our guides, how can we become their students? Would we be better at being human?
I have no doubt of that.