Category Archives: Meditations

The clouds yesterday and the rain today brought back seasonable temperatures, down in the forties instead of in the eighties last week. The house at the corner of 6th and Hamilton here in Geneva is surrounded by red tulips ready to open — but with the cold weather, they have remained shut for the past couple of days.

Yesterday, I took the train downtown to the Loop. Next to the Boeing building, which is on the south branch of the Chicago River at Randolph St., you can walk down some steps to a little pocket park just above river level. There I found green grass, and a few trees with their leaves just opening — and, of all surprising things, I also found a Hermit Thrush, who looked a little bewildered by the urban environment. It flitted back and forth between the small trees, and appeared disturbed by my close presence. By today, I’m sure this bird has flown further north towards its breeding grounds.

Ancient hymn for a new day

Book 1, Hymn 49, Dawn

Come to us, come down, to our realm
from beyond the bright sky. Come, o dawn,
drawn by fiery horses, come to the house
where he pours out fragrant juice.

Your bright chariot, pulled by fiery horses,
is shaped to please the eye, light and agile,
o dawn. And you climb in it, coming here,
coming to aid mortals with noble aims.

O dawn, bright sky being, your coming
awakens creatures to wander earth,
stirs flocks of birds into sky, flying now
to all the boundaries of heaven.

Your radiant light, o dawn, grows bright,
the sky above and around us grows bright,
your beauty brought to earth. We call you,
just as you are, with our sacred songs.

(adaptation of a hymn from Ralph T. H. Griffith’s translation of the Rig Veda)

Spring watch

Home from the Boston area, where Opening Day is considered one of the great religious holidays that welcome the arrival of spring. I know some of you follow basketball, and there were a number of people wearing orange in church yesterday. I, too, hope that Illinois goes all the way. But basketball is a sport. Baseball is religion.

Depressingly, the Boston Red Sox dropped their season opener to the hated New York Yankees. (Please, no nasty comments from Yankees fans, or I will have to remind you what happened last fall, in just four games.) I’m convinced one of the reasons Universalism began in New England is because we New England baseball fans needed an optimistic religion, a religion that assures us that everything will turn out fine, that some day the Red Sox will be perennial winners.

What’s that you say? Universalism started before baseball was even invented? Bosh! I don’t believe it. Haven’t you heard of the Winchester Profession, the 1803 profession of faith of Universalism, which clearly states “We believe that there is one God, whose nature is love, who will finally restore the Red Sox to their righteous place as perennial winners”? This clause was carried over in modified form to our current profession of faith, the UUA “Principles and Purposes,” where it is clearly stated: “We, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote the goal of Red Sox Nation with peace, liberty, and the annual demise of the hated Yankees.”

There you have it. Now if we could just get some decent pitching….

Spring watch

Sure signs of spring showed up in the past few days —

Early daffodils in full bloom today two blocks from the church, on the south side of the Dupage Library System building — which is right across the street from 18 Campbell St., the house of Augustus Conant, first minister of this church.

Looks like only one of the owlets remains in the nest next to the courthouse — s/he wasn’t there yesterday, nor again today. It is likely the other one has gotten good enough at flying to head off on his/her own.

Tree Swallows are back. I saw several dozen over the river an hour ago, just downstream from the Union Pacific West Line bridge. It looked like they were finding lots of insects — insect hatches are another sign of spring.

And it will really feel like spring tomorrow, because Daylight Savings Times begins. If you’re coming to church tomorrow morning, don’t forget to set your clocks ahead!

Spring watch

Back in early March, I mentioned the Great Horned Owl I had been hearing all winter. I had only ever heard a male, and wondered what his breeding status was. At coffee hour after the Saturday evening service, someone mentioned seeing the owlets. Owlets? Yes, the male owl I had been hearing did find a mate (apparently I just never heard her calling), they nested in a tamarisk at the northeast corner of the old court house, and the owlets had recently fledged. It seems likely that the adults are the same pair that used to nest in the tree in front of the church, until that tree came down late last spring.

I went over last night and found the tree. It’s easy to find because of the droppings, feathers, and bones under the tree. There was even a fairly complete skin of a small rabbit (gone as of this morning). I heard the male calling, but it was too dark to see anything else.

This morning I got over there early. It’s pretty foggy right now, but I did see the two owlets huddled together on a branch on the north side of the tamarisk, about a third of the way up, sound asleep. One of the adults was perched far up in the tree, but I did not see the other. If you’re over by the church in the next couple of days, it’s worth taking a look.

It may feel cold, and there isn’t much green yet, but fledged owlets means spring is definitely here.

Later note:

Craig and I went over between the two worship services. The sun was out by then, and we could see them quite clearly. The owlets don’t yet have their ear tufts, but their primary flight feathers appear to be grown in. We talked with an experienced birder who estimated the owlets have another week or two before they fly off. (He also let us look through his scope, so we got a real close-up of them.) Perhaps fifteen or twenty people from church made it over to see the owlets after the second worship service today. Don’t miss them if you’re in the area!

Meditation for early March

A warm afternoon. The people out walking on Third Street wear shirt sleeves, no coats. The warm weather fooled some of the grass into greening up a little. We’re not fooled. More cold air masses pushing down out of Canada and everything will freeze again. At least one more snow storm sweeping in from the west dropping heavy wet snow. Deep snow in places, where you have to wade through drifts to uncover the car. Mercifully the car starts this time but there’s this new spot of rust just below the door looking ugly and lots more hidden under fading paint of that I have no doubt. No doubt spring will be fully here some day soon. In the meantime the car warms up enough to begin another winter journey home. This is what we know will come. More cold. More snow. Spring, eventually. But at the moment it’s a warm afternoon in early March with no reason to think any farther ahead than now.

Spring watch

Over the past two or three months, I’ve been hearing a Great Horned Owl calling when I’ve been in my office at night. Three weeks ago, I finally saw him, sitting up on the roof of the old Kane County court house building a block away from the church. No wonder he sounded so loud from my office.

I hadn’t heard him for a while, but I thought I heard him hooting last night, from somewhere further south in Geneva. He always gives four hoots at a time — hoo hoo-hoo hoo — which is how I know he’s male. I have not heard any females giving their call, of five to six hoots, at all this winter. It’s getting late for owls to try to find a mate, and I’m beginning to wonder if the male has given up on downtown Geneva and is moving further afield.

Spring watch

Red maples are often one of the earliest trees to put out blossoms in this climate and ecosystem. I’ve been watching a little red maple on Second Street, down a few blocks from the church. While its buds are quite red, they aren’t showing any signs of busrting forth.

On my afternoon walk today, I happened to look up at a tree on Fifth Street near State — it was a red maple I’d never noticed before, and up near the top of the tree it looked like a few blossoms had opened up.

That’s good news and bad news. Those blossoms mean spring is getting nearer. They also indicate the beginning of pollen season for hay fever sufferers.