It's a beautiful thing - rosewood needles looping a new row of yarn through the previous one. Making slip-knots, really, and watching them grow into a shawl, or a sock, or a sweater. Creating the open spaces of lace knitting to produce an airy scarf. Knitting around and around in a circle, creating a strawberry or Lorax to warm the head of a toddler.
Meditation with needles and yarn. String art. A quiet spirit. A gift.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Domestic Warfare
Drama - one of the least appealing aspects of teaching middle and high school. When I retired, it was the part of the job I missed least. It's hard to lament the loss of dealing with who stole who's boyfriend, mean girls, wedgies in the guy's locker room; not that I mean to downplay the importance of these issues to 13-year-olds. It's just that the mediation had become exhausting. Anyone who's taught will understand. Multiply your family drama times about 300 and you've got it.
However, yesterday I encountered drama in my own back yard - literally. The noise of the battle was what first drew me to the window. Inside the ring of bricks surrounding the birdfeeder, a squirrel was stuffing his face with the seeds that littered the ground, and simultaneously declaring his displeasure. Surrounding him were three crows, voicing their own dismay in a language that sounded like a cross between a caw and a whimper (you'll just have to imagine it - that's the best I can do). The scene was reminiscent of old westerns, with the cavalry huddled inside the fort, surrounded by marauding Indians looking for a point of weakness. One crow was digging in the dirt with his beak - perhaps sharpening his weapon, or maybe just trying to look busy and keep a low profile. The other two paced back and forth, a couple of strategizing generals.
Their battle plan evaporated in a flurry of gray; the squirrel had launched a pre-emptive strike and the crows retreated, screeching in outrage and losing all pretense of dignity, while their attacker turned and withdrew to his fort. Each bird responded differently to this indignity; one continued to dig nervously with his beak, one paced around the feeder - apparently deep in thought - while the third took the offensive. He flew at his opponent, fluttering and pecking, only to lose his courage as the squirrel turned and jumped at him, chattering in outrage.
This was no epic battle; it only lasted about ten minutes and it ended in a draw. Ultimately, no lives were lost and there were no clear winners or losers. Unless you count me. I gained a good laugh and a renewed appreciation for drama.
However, yesterday I encountered drama in my own back yard - literally. The noise of the battle was what first drew me to the window. Inside the ring of bricks surrounding the birdfeeder, a squirrel was stuffing his face with the seeds that littered the ground, and simultaneously declaring his displeasure. Surrounding him were three crows, voicing their own dismay in a language that sounded like a cross between a caw and a whimper (you'll just have to imagine it - that's the best I can do). The scene was reminiscent of old westerns, with the cavalry huddled inside the fort, surrounded by marauding Indians looking for a point of weakness. One crow was digging in the dirt with his beak - perhaps sharpening his weapon, or maybe just trying to look busy and keep a low profile. The other two paced back and forth, a couple of strategizing generals.
Their battle plan evaporated in a flurry of gray; the squirrel had launched a pre-emptive strike and the crows retreated, screeching in outrage and losing all pretense of dignity, while their attacker turned and withdrew to his fort. Each bird responded differently to this indignity; one continued to dig nervously with his beak, one paced around the feeder - apparently deep in thought - while the third took the offensive. He flew at his opponent, fluttering and pecking, only to lose his courage as the squirrel turned and jumped at him, chattering in outrage.
This was no epic battle; it only lasted about ten minutes and it ended in a draw. Ultimately, no lives were lost and there were no clear winners or losers. Unless you count me. I gained a good laugh and a renewed appreciation for drama.
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