This viral infection has left me with little energy, and I’ve spent a good bit of time lying on the couch, looking out the windows, and listening to what’s going on around our building.
Several days ago, on one of those gray days we’ve been having, I swore I saw a brief flurry of snow. But it could have been a fever dream.
I’ve been watching the Red Maple across the street come into full bloom. By now it is covered with clusters of tiny little red flowers.
Very early one morning, I listened to a Mourning Dove calling from one of the trees across the street. But I don’t think I have heard him calling since. I’ve also heard House Finches calling most mornings; I suspect they favor the trees along the street where I often park my car, on which they often leave their droppings.
The Herring Gulls are nesting again on our rooftop, and on other nearby rooftops. I can hear our Herring Gulls stomping around up on our roof, and having fights, and squawling at each other. The variety of cries they can make is quite wonderful; even though each different cry is more discordant than the next, you have to be impressed by the inventiveness and loudness. I love to complain about the gulls nesting on our roof — that they are loud, combative, abrupt — but at the same time, when you have energy for nothing more than lying on your back and staring up through the skylights, what could be more entertaining than listening to gulls screeching and squabbling?
Here, in Indiana, I am watching a pair of Canada geese nesting on the flat roof outside my office window. The female (or, I think it’s the female) spends most of the day on the nest, and it looks as though she is whispering to her eggs, or telling them stories. She gazes off into the distance, her bill gently mouthing geese language. The male, at the end of his long work day, comes and sits by her, guarding. They are a very contented pair and a pure joy to watch. Makes me forget all about office politics.