a prophetic voice-

   On Monday, a balmy January day, with lots of sunshine and temperatures in the low 60s, I took advantage of what was promising to be our last comfortable day for some time to do a bit of yardwork. One important task was to refill all the bird feeders, in anticipation of the cold which was to come (and which is now firmly here). I confess that I had been terribly remiss in caring for my fine feathered friends this winter and so their visitations had been few and far between. Imagine my delight today to see all 6 feeders crowded with birds of many sorts...beautiful and unique and a delight to watch.   My favorites, I must admit, are the cardinals, and there were two pairs here today, the faithful males keeping watch as their mates helped themselves to the nuts and grains in the block feeders, which seem to be their favorites. And I  had to laugh at a large bully of a bluejay who, for a time, managed to chase away some of the smaller...

Today, a friend reminded me of one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver, "The Summer Day", which closes with these lines: I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? With what better words and thoughts can we begin a new year? with the reminders of the beauty and wonder of the natural world of which we are a part (though far too often we set ourselves apart from it); reminders of the fragility of life; reminders about the importance of living that life to the fullest. As I am a person of words, I could write many more of them, confront you with many more thoughts, but I prefer, on this brink of a new year, to permit Nature  to speak for itself, as...