BirdSong in The Field

Since our return from the vacation, Lauralea and I have both caught some nasty ongoing viral, flu like, cold thing. She is coughing her brains out and I am aching and snorting my way through a miserable week.

But then the rains came and after the rain came the birds. So today I hit record and this is the audio I caught from the little blighters.

Much better than the audio you'd hear from either of us.

Enjoy.





The comfort of the known past.

Tonight I am safely tucked away in one of those classic old prairie town basement bedrooms. You know the type, the ceiling filled with white tiles, one brown rectangle vent for the warm air, and a single bulb in the center. The walls a light shade of mint green with a window up high that is open just a crack to let in some fresh air. There is a well worn carpet on the floor.

My single bed is soft and holds me well, like a welcoming cocoon. Herself is in the matching bed across from me with a bedside table between us. On the table is a lamp and my small transistor radio which is quietly playing the hits of the 70's from 800 AM CHAB.

It's like going back in time. Like going back to a time that was safe and known. A place where the sights and smells, and even the sounds are known.


I really feel like I need that safety for a while.
Maybe regain some strength and focus. Get some of my marbles back.

We'll hide out here for a bit. Soak in the blessings of the quiet past so we can move into the future again. Maybe we can be a blessing again to people.

And, just like 1979, there is no Internet here.
To make that happen, I need to stand on a chair holding my mobile just right, and use it as an access point. So don't feel slighted if it takes time to reply to your contact.


I am on holiday, and as Meatloaf sings about how you "Took the words right out of my mouth," it seems as though I've gone back to the safety of the seventies for this break.

I'll see you again in 30 something years.