The Bird (not quite Hitchcock, but still)

Ø   Nearly assaulted by a frick'n sparrow –

That’s right, I was nearly assaulted by a damn little bird !  He was haul’n ass, I mean really frick'n moving, in that “no wing flapping just aerodynamic beak extended darting on a bead line” kinda way, right under my chin! Christ if he’d hit me I have no doubt his pointy little beak would have stabbed right into my jugular vein and I’d have died twitching on the ground in my backyard flapping in spasms just like the little bird stuck in my neck. And if it didn’t quite kill me dead, it most certainly would have caused some type of nerve damage to my neck that would likely have triggered paralysis from my neck down rendering me immobile for life (except for the aid of a cool little hover-round scooter device). Or, if not paralyzed, then certainly knocked unconscious for some time due to the severe impact and blunt force. Like getting hit with a high-inside-fastball to the noggin, or chin, or neck.

This little bastard literally buzzed right under my chin as I’m walking down the sidewalk, at a quick clip mind you (it was a chilly morning just at sunrise, low light and brisk out) so I had some momentum and a little speed in my step too. So if he hits me, multiply his speed by my speed and we’re talking an epic collision. BAAAAAAM ! 

I shit you not, I felt the air as he blew past me. I did one of those whatthefuck headjerks where your peripheral vision and a sort of sonic hearing thing warns you to duck and cover. A spontaneous head and neck snap, with a slight backward and up neck twist, supper fast, like in the Matrix (cause after that you recall it in some surreal supper slow-mo.  Whhhhhiiiiiiizzzzzzzzz, sssshhhhhhhhhssssss, wwhhhhooooouuuuuuu, sssssssssss – that’s the slow motion sound effect as the bird rockets past.)

After the close call I start thinking  - “was that an intentional warning fly-by” (again, like a pitcher throwing the high and tight fast ball to give warning and intimidate). “Was the stupid thing just flying so fast, simply fat and happy in the new day, with his eyes closed enjoying the moment, that it never even saw me at all”? “What would that dumb bird think if he’d hit me and he finds himself stuck like a dart in a human”? “Maybe he’d drop dead from the impact and I’d be laying there dead or unconscious too, and when we were discovered they’d look at the morbid scene with confusion and horror”? “What if he went right through me like a gunshot”? “How fast does a bird fly”? “The irony, J-Bird killed by a bird”. Your mind wanders and thinks all kinds of strange things when you almost die!

Now, I stop and look both ways before I step out into my backyard and walk down the sidewalk gauntlet of sparrows, chickadees and wrens, beastly creatures all.

Harvest time (a long over due but timely blog post)

Harvest time in small town rural America –

I find it comforting to live in an area that has small towns, farms (real family owned farms, mixed of course with some larger or “CO-OP” farms, and Amish), and yet in less than an hours’ drive to major metropolitan areas, and within a couple hours of major cities; Philadelphia, Baltimore, New York, WDC, I’ll even include Harrisburg, Newark and Wilmington, not “major” cities but WTF you get my point.

The thing with the small town amongst nearby metropolis cities provides a unique respite from the madness, motion, hustle and bustle, yet carries a certain amount of urban feel; Art Galleries, Theater, live music and trust me not just good food, but good upscale cuisine, many very much ground breaking in “local and organic” ingredients  and menus.  Lots of things “fresh” , like down the road farm to market same day, hell under 24hrs fresh. And not just a few things, but lots and lots; beef, poultry, dairy, chocolate, eggs, tomatoes, asparagus, squash, zucchini, celery, potatoes (all kinds and colors), yams, all sorts of lettuce, broccoli, apples, pears, peaches, grapes (and Wine!), mushrooms, even tobacco is grown around here. We also have a great variety of local made Jams, Jellies, Pickles (and pickled everything – even Beet Eggs, a very local thing), Apple Cider, Birch and Root Beer – and yes, BEER, (did I mention Wine and Chocolate, oh yeah I did).

There are many Independent Grocers that set the stage for the “Whole Foods” concept, look and feel, true Local Farmers and Central Markets, a couple wholesale and retail auctions as well. You can pretty much shop fresh daily and eat fresh meals either prepared at home or at restaurants. Now prices may be competitive to a certain extent, but we’re still close enough to those big cities East Coast and Mid-Atlantic cost of living, so that comes with the territory, but options, selection and choice is the point.

So, Autumn, Fall, “harvest time” and the Holiday season is just the best. Landscapes begin to look like Saturday Evening Post or Hallmark views, homes, businesses, towns begin to decorate to celebrate the harvest and for Halloween, Thanksgiving , Christmas and New Year holidays. Fields are being worked; crops gathered, hay and straw bailed, winter wheat planted, other fields plowed under. With the large Amish community we see these activities both with horse teams and tractor, hand and tool, families together in their efforts among the crops, animals, pastures, and barn lots. The connection and “life” of earth and our place in the cycle is evident. It’s comforting, it’s fulfilling. And the smells at this time of year – fresh cut and bailed hay, plowed damp, rich soil, wood fires from chimney tops, leaf and brush smoldering under a watchful farmers eye, chocolate from the small local factories, the sweetness of earth reclaiming fallen growth, coffee shops, bakeries, soups and other roasting meals from restaurants, tobacco curing in specially barns, smokehouses curing meats and sausage, grain mills grinding meal and flour, oats, wheat, barley, corn all filling the crisp cool light air, and carried on gentle breezes, and occasional gust of wind pulling leaves from carefully raked piles.

Harvest time, a very special time of year. A good time truly to reflect on our own place on this vast earth, our true and real connection to her, our own Harvest and the bounty of life its self, a time of thanksgiving and the giving of gifts; food, friendship and community. Give this time of year to food banks and other organizations you favor, participate when you can in lending a hand toward service to those less fortunate.

An Old Irish Blessing –

Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.

Count your joys instead of your woes;
Count your friends instead of your foes.

Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.

Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.

Count your health instead of your wealth;
Love your neighbor as much as yourself.

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