In a rapid shift from “how silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given” to how noisily we chase away our fears, my year began with me standing outside in a snow-covered world watching fireworks in the street and beating a few of my drums. The neighborhood was not lost in total racket but this was not a time to sleep in peace. Back in California I could never be sure I was not hearing guns fired at the beginning of the year but the only pops in the midnight air last night seemed to be fireworks. (We live in hope.)Having chatted earlier with Don Cuervo (not the tequila—never the tequila) about my perpetual mild sleep-deprivation, I allowed myself to sleep in today. When I arose and looked out a bedroom window, the world was still layered in powdery white (not cocaine—never cocaine) and the sun was shining on the construction sites of future homes, and beyond that to new homes not unlike my home, and further west the low rise of the mesa. I spotted a corvid, then another and some more, perhaps a dozen or so in all. Without a close look or a chance to hear their calls, I am rarely certain if I am viewing crows or ravens. Then I noticed two of them in tandem flight. They flew low and wove their way around the masonry walls dividing the lots. One appeared smaller and was usually flying above or only slightly behind the larger. Was it a game, a courtship pattern, or one just mimicking and harassing the other? I have no idea but it was fascinating to behold.
Since ravens delight in aerial acrobatics, I shall assume they were ravens, Don Cuervo’s people, his totem critters—creative tricksters among the ranks of the gods. Let us call it auspicious, the flight of these ebon avians across the snow-covered landscape at the dawn of a new year.
However arbitrary our civil calendar, I wish health, inner peace, and the astonishment of beauty for all. With less fear and more wonder in our lives, may we then blossom and bear the fruits of mutuality and upbuilding of the common good. From that may justice and peace flow like the mighty rivers of Amos’ thundering imperative.
Love yourself this day. Then love someone else.
—The BB
