The Birds . . .

 Many years ago when I was a young girl 

I would go for long walks

often stopping at the local cemetery in the 

small Iowa town where I lived.  

A large pond rested in front of the grave sites.  

This pond became our favorite winter activity spot.

We skated for hours, 

warmed our toes in the little hut, 

watched our friends, (boyfriends) play hockey.

One thing I did, in all seasons, 

was to go for walks in this area

and often sit by/in a favorite tree I found, 

Listening and watching the birds became “my thing.”

Little did I know back then that this 

love of listening, watching, seeing 

would follow me through the years.  

I found a certain Peace when I 

brought myself to the birds.  

After high school, college, marriage, 

living in the small town of Baraboo Wisconsin, 

my love of the outdoors, listening, watching the birds returned often.  

Not so much identifying birds, more of the quiet, the sounds

and the peace I found in it all.  

We were fortunate to live in a very old majestic home

near the Baraboo River.

I would walk down back of our home to the high 

river bank and sit for hours listening, watching.  

It was about this time my mom gifted me 

with a Peterson’s Bird book. 

My interest began to stretch to identifying 

looking for, finding bird habitat.

Moving forward to our move from Wisconsin to Michigan, 

knowing no one in the area, my husband and I 

would often go on long walks and often

walk through the cemetery located in 

Montague, Michigan 

which led us to other roads and trails in this area.

We were in a rebuilding time of our life. 

new home, new area, new people, new experiences.

Our walks together sustained us, gave us time, 

to recognize this new landscape, 

birds and butterflies 

often flitting about on our walks.

I/we often mentioned to one another, 

“did you hear that sound, see that critter, look at that bird” 

ahhhhh yes, I am reminded of the peace we found together.  

Five years later, on a beautiful October day, 

my husband left to join friends to work out, go for a run. 

A few hours later our world turned upside down 

finding out my husband, our children’s dad, had collapsed 

and died of a massive heart attack. 

Minutes, days, weeks, months 

of shock, disbelief, sorrow.  

I would often sit by a window in our family room, 

or by the dining table near the patio window 

and deck leading into the woods. 

The birds came to visit in droves.

Chicadee, finch, cardinals, RedPoles, 

Blue Jays, juncoes, woodpeckers, 

Monarch Butterflies flitted about as well.  

Out came the Peterson book and I started 

to identify,  learn the names, 

and in some small way I found a “thread of peace.”

And now it is today, 

forty one years later 

and I am unbelievably sad

missing our little bunch of

golden furry fluff. 

Invited to go look for

Bald Eagles 

was a gift.  

I have seen pictures, followed rapture sites, 

walked woods and trails 

to catch an in person view of a Bald Eagle 

and not until February Third Twenty Twenty One did it happen.  

such a happy peace filled moment for me.

Reflecting Remembering 

Peace

~

until the next time

love

lynne