#246 Latest Pause For Beauty

I enjoy the weekly messages a lot. They come at good intervals, a reminder of why we are molding our lives the way we are. My wife is a painter and I'm a photographer, and we spend half our time at our nature preserve in the Missouri Ozarks, which have a fair number of similarities to Vermont (my birthstate). It always gives a special feeling to see that others are similarly relating to nature and art, and their endless interweavings.

Your painting of sparrows arrived just hours after observing a frenzy of sparrow activity in our small back yard in Kansas City. I was washing dishes in the kitchen when I noticed a number of sparrows hopping around more energetically than usual, gathering what looked like light-colored leaves in their mouths, then flying off with a load. After a while, I saw that the treasured objects were feathers, some longer than others. Apparently a bird of some kind had been killed by a cat or hawk, and the sparrows were thrilled to be feathering their nests with the leftovers, which had scattered a bit in the wind. It wasn't long before every bit of fluff stuff had been picked up and stashed under the eaves and shingles of three or four houses, and the yard quieted down as the nestbuilders withdrew to install their new bedding.