Another Day

January 2022

This morning, as with most mornings, the first thing I do is get my coffee and play my guitar.  After that, I sit at my computer and collect my thoughts. I love to write and never feel like I am short of topics to cover.  Things that amuse, annoy, or perplex me. Random thoughts. Stray notions. Curiosities. I have so many things that stimulate my urge to ponder. To investigate.  And to write it down. 

Today, however, has been different. It’s a cold, blustery January morning. The coffee doesn’t taste very good, and I know I need to shovel the driveway. I didn’t sleep very well. I just don’t feel very inspired. That, in and of itself, makes me ponder.  What makes some days good days and some days bad ones?  And why do some people seem to always have good days, while others rarely do?

With that thought in mind, and after staring at my screen for a few moments, I decided this was too much to think about on this dreary ass morning. So, I sat back in my chair and decided just to look outside for a while. Not to ponder anything at all. Just to look. To try to think about nothing.  Which is maybe one of the most difficult things possible to do.  Not just for me, but for anyone. So, I sat back and looked out my office window into my backyard.  I took a few deep breaths and tred to relax. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, my wife was making her usual breakfast, consisting of coffee, toast, and egg whites. If you weren’t aware, an egg white being fried has the aroma of dank and nauseating flatulence.  Or like something that came out of the rear end of a chicken.  These particular eggs are “farm fresh”.  And they look like they came into our house with some of the barn with them.  My wife must wash each one before she uses it.  Which is fine and good, but it just adds to the stench, or at least to the impact of the stench on my morning nostrils.  I have learned to be a mouth breather to get me through this morning, sensory extravaganza. 

Now mind you, this is a daily ritual.  She has the same breakfast, Every. Single. Day.  Of course, most days, I don’t really mind, but today I was not enjoying the experience. It was a distraction.  I’m sure I grimaced to myself, feeling that there was no way I was going to close my mind off today. Not with the air filled with the reeking aroma as if someone was passing gas while immersed in a sulfur spring.  So, I decided to just turn my chair and look outside.

The first thing I noticed was that my windows were obscenely dirty. Ignoring this, I consulted my handy desktop thermometer, which told me it was -1-degree Fahrenheit.  Absolutely frigid!  There was a blanket of new snow. Drifts were starting to form from the wind that was causing the leaf-less trees to wave furiously at me.  Many of their smaller branches had not survived the night’s gale, lying on the ground awaiting me to come and dispose of them.  The same wind had blown someone’s garbage into my back yard. A McDonalds bag, and a pizza box tumbled through.  Taking what would have been an otherwise pristine view and making it much less so.

I couldn’t help but notice the birds.  There were dozens of them working hard to hang on to my feeders that I have positioned just for them.  They were eating and holding on for their lives. Many waiting patiently in the same tree branches that still waved convulsively at me. I couldn’t help but wonder, how do they survive these extreme conditions? Both the trees and the birds.  Nature is truly amazing. 

Below the feeders, a pair of squirrels sat poised, braced against the howling wind, trying to find their way around my ingenious device that keeps them from climbing up and gorging at my bird feeders. They opportunistically munched on whatever the birds happened to drop.  A meager bit here and there. I felt a little sorry for them.

My neighbor began to stir next door.  Although the temperature is well below zero, with wind chills comparable to the Arctic tundra, he was about to commence cross country skiing around the neighborhood.  Which annoys me.  How come he has so much energy so early? And is he really safe when it is so cold?  He was so bundled up that if he happened to fall over, I wasn’t certain he would be able to get back upright. I watched Yukon Cornelious disappear into the woods, the wind pushing him forward.  I wondered if he realized how much more difficult the trip back would be. Frankly, it made me slightly concerned.

Now I looked beyond my nasty windows and how at the bird-filled bush and noticed how much it needed trimming. And how dusty my windowsills were, with a very out of place  stink bug crawling aimlessly along the ledge. Meanwhile, another square shaped container, which appeared to be a planter of some sort, blew through my yard and crashed against my neighbor’s fence.  It really was a blustery day.

I realized I would never be able to close off my mind with all these stimuli getting in my way.  Anyway, I had some things I needed to do.  The stench of my wife’s breakfast had faded from my nostrils. It was safe to go into the kitchen for my own breakfast.  I needed to start my day. I decided to stop stalling and get up to do something good for the world. Something meaningful. 

So, while my wife shoveled, I went out and fed the squirrels. Afterwards, taking a moment to watch how they reveled in the copious amounts of corn and seed that they had been provided. Chasing away the Blue Jays as they came to stealthily, but aggressively, partake of their feast.  I was content.  Now my mind was clear.  My attitude refreshed. Everything else seemed so much less important.  Now I was genuinely ready to begin another day. So I decided to take a nap.