The bees are disappearing, the frogs are disappearing, the U.S. House of Representatives voted that the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution was added just for giggles, and my lungs are sounding like the only double-chambered bong at a Grateful Dead concert. Needless to say – I’m grumpy.
I would simply blame my lingering illness and the somewhat dour mental effects said to be common to those with pneumonia, but the fact that most people who have ever spent more than fifteen minutes in my general vicinity know full well that grumpiness is not a foreign emotion to me. The only saving grace in this is that as I age, my grumpiness becomes more socially acceptable. A young vigorous man evidencing grumpiness is looked at askance but an aging man showing a bit of snow on the roof and down the shutters who finds himself in mid-grump one day is not only accepted but even admired so long as he does it with a bit of style and flair.
I honestly can’t speak for women here, not ever having been one. Societal norms in the U.S. being what they are, even today, I fear that women are not allowed a good grump now and again – not openly at least. The norms seem to require them to be friendly and sociable whether they feel like it or not. If this is indeed true, I think it’s terribly sad. Grumpiness is cathartic. If judiciously practiced it can lighten the heart and purge the mind of troubling thoughts. It’s power should be freely employed and socially accepted in all – male and female. That’s equality.
So what does all this have to do with bird watching? Not a lot really. The fact that I haven’t been able to do any for the past week is possibly playing a role in my present mood. Like anyone with an outdoor passion, spending time out in the field watching the birds, the butterflies, or anything else that happens to be of interest on that given day helps to clear the mind of all the detritus left cluttering it after too much exposure to modern life. Sick as I’ve been, I haven’t even been able to refill the bird feeders that went empty a few days ago and now fail to interest the local birds; thus even watching them through the window failed to be an option.
Tomorrow is another day. I can refill the bird feeders, send a check to Froglife, write a note to my congressman, and with hope be one day closer to kicking this pneumonia.
Peace and good bird watching.