Blackbirds, and cows, and the dead of night

Just a few minutes ago, I had a long exhale. Not an actual exhale, though I had plenty of those, too, but one of those extended feelings of release, where you just let go, a bit, of the tension that came before. Dido seems to be on the mend (and, I busted him for faking some of his reactions to his discomfort--that whole wincing and moaning thing? Yep. Fake. When he's actually all better, we'll talk about that one.) The H, after a truly horrible day yesterday dealing with two pieces of Really Bad News, is dealing well with one and taking the other one more or less in stride, looking for the lessons in it, and so on. Vous, the au pair, came home from her art class and almost instantly dove into an involved game of the Babe's invention, involving babies, blankets, monsters and, I'm sure, something scatalogical. And me? I sat on the front porch, feeling the pre-storm air and listening to the call of the red winged blackbird, two staccato whistles followed by a drawn out third note. I'm noticing the un-quiet here lately: the frogs are so loud at night it sounds like a truck driving by (the sound of vibration, without the sensation) and last night, during an outrageous (and these days, frequent, sorry to say) bout of insomnia, I could have sworn I heard a lost cow somewhere nearby. For a while, I entertained the idea that it was actually the black bear that everyone but me seems to have seen (kind of like the fox last year--this year, I've seen more of him than I care to) but I'm pretty sure it was bovine, not ursine. John says he heard it this morning, around five, and I heard it at two, so unless it was a shared hallucination, I think one of our neighbors' girls went wandering. We have dairy farms down both roads that lead towards our house, large ones, and I have yet to tire of seeing the cows in the fields as I drive by.


goodfellow said...

the Boy demands a stroll every night -- he loves to listen to the birds (and planes taking off and landing from the nearby airport). Most of all, he loves to visit the "Girls" -- the cows --- in our neighborhood. There are 4 in the orchard next to our house, and tonight they actually came up to the fence and mooed and chatted. The Boy laughed every time they mooed.

Their six sisters are in a neighboring field.

Tonight, we hit the jackpot with the herd of 18 next to (newer -- i-e-. 19th century) chateau on our route (the 15th century chateau next door has 4 donkeys, but no cows). First one, then a second and third came up to the fence to visit tonight. They were so curious and sweet -- still shy when we tried to pet them. In the end, eight girls were crowding at the gate to meet the boy, who was in absolute ecstasy.

Alto2 said...

I read the title and post and immediately developed this earworm:

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night."

Put on some tunes and get some rest.

Wordgirl said...

It sounds so idyllic... I have to read more about how you've come to find yourself there...lovely, lovely writing.

And now I will be singing the song above...but as a lullaby version I have on some CD I bought early on when I was just sure a child would be around the corner to hear it... and then it was mostly just me listening...