As Time Goes By

Although I've had a lot on my mind to write and share, my health has regretfully been too poor for me to really do so. This being the case, I thought I'd instead show you a glimpse into the little world that exists outside my window.  There is a mesquite tree in the small courtyard by my room, and it is quite the hot spot for little desert dwellers. My dad put some feeders on a few of the tree's branches and it is amazing the amount of birds that flock to them. Woodpeckers, cardinals, hummingbirds, mourning doves, quails, cactus wrens and lots of other birds I would have no clue how to label. I even once saw a beautiful, large hawk perched on one of the mesquite's branches, keeping guard and watching for prey.  I also get an amazing amount of bunnies, squirrels and other critters who come to visit me on a regular basis. So, although there's rarely much activity going on inside, there's a lot going on outside.

A bunny finds a home in my courtyard

...and has already made friends with her neighbors

A squirrel steals food from the bird feeder


A quail makes an extra special effort to say hello

Two mourning doves and a finch in a mesquite tree
(isn't that how the song goes?)


A finch hogs the hummingbird feeder


A woodpecker hogs the hummingbird feeder

A cardinal hangs out all nice and peaceful

...then catches me taking his photo and gives me the evil eye

A very rare hawk sighting

Cool bird

Same cool bird from a distance (click to enlarge)

That last bird (according to my bird identification book) is called a pyrrhuloxia, which is unfortunate, as it sounds more like a disease. Apparently, they are also referred to as gray cardinals or desert cardinals. I wish my photos of this one had come out better, but he was so far away that it was hard to zoom in clearly enough with my little camera.

Keeping up with the feeders has become a full time job for my parents. They fill them to the brim only to find them empty the next day. I've therefore come to the conclusion that it is quite the inaccuracy to say someone "eats like a bird" to imply that a person is a light eater. As it turns out, birds eat like pigs. :)

Anyway, it's been sort of interesting to watch the dynamics of all the various birds as they interact with one another. Some (like the woodpecker and curve-billed thrasher) are generally completely unwilling to share the feeder, while other birds (such as finches and cardinals) are typically much more willing to make room for everyone.

I've yet to see any coyotes, deer or bobcats this year, and for the rabbit's sake, I'm glad of it. I also have yet to see any scorpions or ridiculously huge spiders lurking around and, for my sake, I'm especially glad about that.

As for life indoors, time passes slowly, and yet, simultaneously whirls by. I am reminded of a quote I jotted down recently:

Mysterious paradox: time, motionless here, gallops out there. In my contracted world, the hours drag on, but the months flash by.
-- Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Actually, this quote deserves further comment. For those who don't know the story, the author (the former editor-in-chief of French Elle) had a stroke in his mid 40's that left him with a body entirely paralyzed but a mind fully intact. This condition is referred to as locked-in syndrome. In the author's words, it is "like a mind in a jar."

The one part of his body that Bauby could move was his left eyelid. Remarkably, he was able to use this single movement to communicate. As a special alphabet was dictated to him, Bauby blinked when he heard the letter he wanted to convey. In this way, slowly and patiently, letters became words, then sentences, and ultimately ended in a memoir. Quite an extraordinary feat.

I of course can't begin to know what this man's struggle and experience was like for him. I feel extremely fortunate to still have some movement of my body, even if most of it is in bed. I cannot imagine not even having that liberty. Still, at least to some small degree, I found myself relating to many aspects of his story. My mind, though significantly slowed and exhausted from illness, is full of ideas, aspirations, motivations and observations. And yet, they remain, for the most part, largely unexpressed. My body lacks the ability to free them, or to free even itself.

I am locked in, and I want out.

In the meantime, life goes on, both in and outside my window. As I lay here persevering, I watch the birds greet each new sunrise in song. They remind me of the beauty around me and of the freedom that lies just within reach. Someday, I will be outside again too, singing my own joyful song along with them.