I Want To Be A Robin

On any given morning I can sit reading, and hear the delightful orchestration of neighboring birds. Robins, Sparrows, Cardinals, Grackles ~ they seem to fan out and find their territory without much mayhem. I respect the innocence of birds (swans, as much as I adore them, will fight to the death over territory. They can’t be used as an example).

William charging the goose (I do think he had a cardiac arrest) where Bella is nesting.

Some days I prefer birds to most people. They see no need to judge, criticize, condemn. I highly doubt that Robins (admittedly my favorite) fly around yelling, “Robins Rock! Death to the rest of you! Robins will live forever and gleefully watch you losers burn!” What is *wrong* with people? It’s embarrassing. Is it the language thing? How we use it as a weapon? Our larger brains seem wasted, if all we can do is argue.

Peace will come to this planet, eventually. The question is, will anyone be here to see it? This gift which was meant for us, squandered, restored and enjoyed by the innocent among us. When the killing and clammouring die away, the sweet songs of Robins will carry the day.

LBM 7/12/2019