Writer

Tag: birds

SEPTEMBER, A MONTH OF CHANGES

While August was a month in which to soak up the warmth and outdoor activity of the summer season, September was a month of seasonal changes, especially as the month drew to a close, including the temperature (dropping, a bit quickly this year it seems), leaves shifting their color palette (a pleasure of this season), and the outside focus (a last camping trip) turning inward (cue the list of indoor projects).

Of course, the autumn weather will often be inviting, there is still the list of outdoor tasks to complete, and that finally final mowing, but the slowing rhythm of the season felt in the later sunrise and earlier sunset draws me inward.

Work: For me, the rhythm of my WIP (work in progress) has shifted from actively working on the second (or twenty-third, depending on how you tally) draft of my Armenian family memoir to participating in a creative nonfiction workshop where I’m receiving feedback on the first seven chapters, one week at a time. The feedback I’m receiving is making me consider returning, once again, to the beginning and starting yet another draft. I’ve known such a revision would be necessary but now, with the feedback, I’m starting to see the potential shape that new draft might take. Another part of me wants to keep pushing forward with the current draft, in my longing to have a whole complete thing, regardless of its merit. And I’m still lacking a structure to write into, at least one I can articulate to myself.

What are the pros and cons of starting over? Is there a value in pushing forward?

Wonder: Have you ever wondered what it is like to have a MRI? I have heard that procedure mentioned over the course of my life mostly in the context of an expensive last-resort or absolutely necessary scan. Recently, I had my first MRI, to check out my heart due to my abnormal heart rhythm, i.e., atrial fibrillation. First, let me say yay for the scientific minds that created this modern medical device that helps so many. But mostly I want to say WTF—a narrow tube? Why couldn’t it be something less confining, less tomb-like? And did I mention I have claustrophobia? In addition, MRI machines are the opposite of quiet. Great bursts of sounds similar to a car horn and grinding gears and a house alarm, so loud you are required to wear ear protection. While I’m grateful to find out that in spite of my atrial fibrillation, my heart is otherwise healthy, I have a new life goal, which isn’t entirely under my control: to never have another MRI.

Have you had an MRI? How did the experience go for you? How did you manage any anxiety you may have had?

Windows: The birds and squirrels know that change is upon us and are busy consuming and collecting food. Our large dogwood tree bloomed spectacularly this spring and the result is now being appreciated by the creatures as they feast upon the seedpods. The squirrels, robins, and flickers are exuberant eaters, scattering the chaff all over the deck and brick walkway.

Work, Wonder, and Windows

Welcome to my blog. First time here? Check out May’s blog for info on my intentions for this space.

Work: Last October while reading Judith Kitchen’s The Circus Train, a novella-length essay in fragments about, to name a few, mortality, Samuel Beckett, and memory, I came across this line: “I like the phrase ‘time on your hands’ when you can actively hold it and feel its weight.” In that moment I was transported back thirty years to an experience that altered my perception of time. I grabbed a pen and a notebook, and wrote the first draft of “Twenty Seconds,” an essay out in the current issue of Two Hawks Quarterly.

What does the phrase “time on your hands” make you think about?

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HUMMINGBIRD WINTER

Upon returning home, from a road trip, in the middle of November, I saw a hummingbird dart out of the large rhody in the backyard to the nearby feeder, a little sugar-water still in it, hover and drink, and then dart back into the rhody. A hummingbird in November—a novelty to me. This one had bright red over its head and neck, a male Anna’s hummingbird. I immediately boiled water and poured a cup over a quarter cup of sugar, stirred until the sugar dissolved and then let it cool.

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