THE WATCHER

Two Bird Funerals and a Microphone

It was a season of birds. Our landscape is maturing and with that, the trees are becoming a refuge for Gods avionic miracles. I love bird songs. When I was a young boy in Sparks, I could whistle every bird noise I ever heard. I'd listen to the birds sing and then whistle it back to them. In stunned silence the birds would become quiet. I imagined them contemplating the familiar but slightly odd song and then slowly they would return to their chorus, accepting the strange new tone to their community. I was no threat, just different.

Our cats too like the new bird sanctuary. It provides endless hours of enjoyment as they attempt, in what would seem to be a miracle, to actually catch a bird. But nature finds a way and our cat’s love us dearly, so we were the reluctant recipients of two badly wounded bird presents. Each little bird desperately tried to live and we did our best to give them a safe dry place with food, water and no cats. But, they succumbed to their hidden wounds and died in our care. Each bird death was met with crying and a general anger at our cats as well as cats in general that would do such deeds. The funerals were short and sweet, but they did provide closure to these sweet little creatures’ lives. One is buried under our African Sumac and the other under a bottom stone in our rock wall. They are missed.

This month I also had my directorial debut for a music video production project. I had complete control of the process and even had the pleasure of hiring Joe Boyd to play the lead. I enjoyed the power and have a new found respect for directors. Joe was very professional and took direction and kept the cast and crew laughing with his improvisation skills. I look forward to casting him again.

As far as my marathon goes, I have run 16 miles and several times and have unfortunately discovered that I have terrible knee problems. It could be due to running over 105 miles last month. The intense pain eventually goes away, but when the pain begins it takes over and it becomes so unbearable, I cannot run at all and have to walk. So, I hope that I can somehow train my way out of this pain, strengthen my knees and complete the marathon, but if I have to stop, so be it. That is a very hard lesson.

I had the chance to speak to a world class marathon runner last week and she told me finishing the race is great, but even more important is the experience, the preparation and the training. I agree with her, it has been the most intense physical thing I have ever attempted and I have discovered a lot about myself. I am weak. So, there are several things I know for sure. One, I will start the race and run until my Iliotibial Band Syndrome and stubborn Irish pride comes to a head. And two, God willing it will be at or around the twenty six mile three hundred and eighty five yard mark.