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A Joyful Noise

robin

On the wings of morning: expressions of grief, solidarity, and sanctity

March 22, 2016 by Melodye Shore

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The Robin is the One
That speechless from her Nest
Submit that Home — and Certainty
And Sanctity, are best. —Emily Dickinson

Three explosions ripped through Brussels earlier this morning, killing at least 34 innocent people and injuring 134. In the aftermath of this terrorist attack, people are linking arms with Belgium via social media.

To their voices, I add my whispered prayers:  Peace among nations, peace in our homes, peace in our hearts.

And I hear the quiet echo of my grandmother’s voice, a comfort to me on this shrouded morning. “In the darkest nights of winter,” my Nana always said, “watch the skies and listen for the robins.”

Violence cast a pall over this second day of Spring. The robin’s song is muted by grief. And still–because of, and despite the horrors of this moment–I carry within my heart an anthem: Cheer cheer, cheerily, cheer up, cheer up…change is gonna come.

Posted in: Am I my brother's keeper?, Belgium, birds, Brussels, Emily Dickinson, Home, peace, robin, Terrorism Tagged: belgium, brussels, emily dickinson, home, nest, peace, robins

The KKK rally in Anaheim, Part II: What was I thinking?

March 7, 2016 by Melodye Shore

Whether or not they supported the counter-protest (or read my takeaways from that event), a handful of people expressed real concerns about my having attended the KKK rally in Anaheim. Some talked to me privately; still others confronted me outright. What on earth were you thinking?  It seems so out of character, they said.

I disagreed. It’s all of a piece, I said, and I invited them to look a little deeper. I’ll answer those questions here (as often as you’d like…), if you’ll permit me to come at them sideways.

We are multi-faceted beings, every one of us. I’m captivated by Mother Nature’s most exquisite creations, but–and–I also have within my heart an innate desire to cradle “the least of them,” within and beyond my own garden gates.

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I watch hummingbirds out my kitchen window every morning, see them wage fierce battles mid-air, iridescent wings shimmering in the afternoon sun as they chase away intruders. Inspired by their courage, I run outside, flailing my arms as I shout, “Shoo! Go away!” to the murder of crows on the neighboring hillside.

I’m swept away by a robin’s song, and I carry within my heart an anthem: Cheer cheer, cheerily, cheer up…change is gonna come.  

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I twist the lens until the mourning dove comes into focus, and use Lightroom to scrub the poop plops on the fence. It’s more pleasant that way, don’t you think?

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When the water shortage deepened, we replaced our backyard sod with drought-friendly flowers, all of which attract butterflies, honeybees, and songbirds. It’s a small space, and our switchover to drip irrigation isn’t going to refill the aquifers.  But it helps prevent runoff from polluting our ocean, and it’s more than enough to fill the birdbaths again every morning.

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Between the lavender and penstemon, we’ve planted this sign. It’s an honor to be designated as a Monarch Waystation, in recognition of the work we’re doing to help support the earth and her inhabitants. Bare minimum, it’s a conversation piece. Each one, teach one. We learn from each other.

Exactly one week after the KKK rally, I plant milkweed seeds with my little friend Sara. It’s in short supply now, due to overzealous pesticide applications and misguided/misinformed land management practices.  The consequences are devastating: Since milkweed’s the sole food source for monarch caterpillars, and the only plant on which monarch butterflies lays its egg, the monarch population has plummeted. We’re doing our part to help save these winged beauties from the threat of extinction.

I know from experience (and the parable of the sower) that the things we sow don’t always take root and grow. Even so, as we tuck tiny seeds into peat pockets, I say a silent benediction: Let hope be renewed, and peace be restored, within our own hearts and the habitats we share. And I remember, then as always, the African proverb: “When you pray, move your feet.”

Long answer made short?

This is how it feels to work together on behalf of something bigger than ourselves–something that has potentially positive effects, on our own lives and that of future generations.

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Posted in: Anaheim, beach, Butterflies, counter-protesters, Drought, gardening, honeybees, hummingbird eggs, hummingbird nest, hummingbirds, Inky and Starr, KKK Rally, liminal spaces, milkweed, monarch butterfly, Monarch Waystation, mother nature, Orange County California, peace, robin, robins, Sara Tagged: birds, hope, hummingbirds, kkk rally, monarch butterfly, monarch waystation, Pearson Park, seeds

Can Spring be far behind?

February 8, 2016 by Melodye Shore

“In the darkest nights of winter,” my Nana always told me, “watch the skies and listen for the robins.”

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I mentioned that very thing, in my blog post last week.

She was right, of course. Again. Because, oh hey, look who’s splashing in my birdbath!

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Rarely have I ever seen robins in this area, and only once before in my own garden. He perched on my soul fence for a single afternoon, and then vanished.

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Such cheerful birds, these harbingers of spring. I’m glad for their company, however long they choose to stay.

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Seems Edward Jenner was equally enthralled by their visits. Here, his love letter to these red-chested beauties:

Address to a Robin
Come, sweetest of the feathered throng,
And soothe me with thy plaintive song;
Come to my cot, devoid of fear,
No danger shall await thee here…

Hop o’er my cheering hearth, and be
One of my peaceful family
Then soothe me with thy plaintive song,
Thou sweetest of the feathered throng.

–Edward Jenner (physician, musician, balloonist, and inventor of modern-day vaccinations, 1749-1823)

Posted in: Address to a Robin, birds, Edward Jenner, Hope the thing with feathers, nana, Poetry, robin, Spring Tagged: backyard garden, birds, hope, joy, nana, poetry

The red, red robin comes bob bob bobbin’ along

September 2, 2015 by Melodye Shore
Robin_01September2015Surprise

American Robin

At the confluence of serendipity & symbolism sits this red-breasted beauty. He appeared in my backyard for the first time yesterday, a dandelion wish finally realized.

I’d search the skies above our new home for more than a year, believed beyond reason that our backyard would one day be graced by a robin’s cheerful song. And just before sunset, without advance warning or fanfare, hope perched its chubby self on my back fence.

He foraged in my flowerbed, splashed in the birdbath, and surveyed the hillside beyond our fence before flying home to his own nest. I’m hoping he’ll return, but even if he doesn’t, I’m over-the-moon happy about this visit.

 

Blog title courtesy of Dean Martin.

 

 

Posted in: birds, Flight, Home, Hope the thing with feathers, joy, nana, Nature, Photography, robin, serendipity, symbolism Tagged: birds, gardening, joy, photography, robin, serendipity, symbolism

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