Birdsong

I'm sitting here, in the livingroom, listening to birdsong just outside the door. The House is quiet, our only client having left for the morning. Travis and Leah are still asleep, Hilary is in my lap, smiling of course, and the smell of the coffee is wafting up from the kitchen. I'm not yet ready to disturb the quiet with a load of laundry.

The male of this pair of Snow Buntings (Plectrophenax nivalis) has established our deck hand rail as part of his singing territory, and the two visit continually during the day. Almost fearless, they landed near my feet yesterday as I worked outside.

But it is Hilary that is singing now. Entrancing me with her voice as she sings an epic drama, and with her smile. I look down at that smile that lights up whenever she sees me, and wonder what the future will bring. I think about Mike's daughter, new to this world, and to Debbie and Dave's daughters, both graduating high school. And also to my friend Jeff's Lillie, who wasn't even born yet when I last saw Jeff and Belle in Kauai (So good to talk to you last night Jeff).  What will the world be when Hilary and Ivy graduate? And will I still make her face light up with a smile?

More "song" now, as Travis awakes from a bad dream, crying a peculiar wail. Hilary still smiles as I set her down to comfort him. We lie on his bed for awhile until he fully awakes, and now he smiles and runs out to start his day, which will no doubt involve a lot of playing outside, and his "graduation" from Group "B" to Group "A" at pre-school.

Now as I pour myself a coffee (Ethiopian Yirgacheffe - bold, organic and fairly traded and unbelievably availiable for purchase in Arctic Bay) I open the door a little to let in more bird song, the snow bunting and the gulls and the Raven's, and ponder daughters and sons and their songs.