It is a quiet Sunday night in Narrowsburg, NY.  This morning Richard and I saw a scarlet tanager flying from branch to branch eating insects I guess.  All of the birds here seem to dine on insects for their main diet.  We have flycatchers, cedar waxwings, phoebes, kingbirds, catbirds.  There is also a ferocious mother hen wild turkey who doesn't fly or eat insects as far as I can tell; I have yet to see her chicks.

Elizabeth loved the peacefulness of this part of the state, and we miss her when we come here, but we remember how we used to sit together on the big front porch and read or paint, or watch the hummingbirds bomb each other on their way to the feeder.

1 comment:

  1. The brilliant red of the tanager is stunning! Such peaceful memories-reading, painting, bird watching. Two people I know very well have lost teenage children since March. I have been able to tell them that there is the chance of quiet, sweet memories down the road for them, thanks to your upkeep of this blog. Although I do not believe that there is a "reason" for your tragedy, I can tell you that your tribute to Elizabeth has done good for others.
    Wishing you peace.


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How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry