November 13: "The Sandhill Cranes of Nebraska," Whole Lot of Rancor, Momentous

I will freely admit that I was in a pretty shitty mood all day long.  Just lots of stressful stuff going on in my head and in the world.  I've been purposely avoiding any news about the Felon in Chief or his flunkies.  Don't really give a shit what mouth breathers he's appointing to his so-called cabinet posts.  And I don't think I'm really missing anything, aside from a headache and a whole lot of rancor.

Billy Collins misses something good . . . 

The Sandhill Cranes of Nebraska

by: Billy Collins

Too bad you weren’t here six months ago,
was a lament I heard on my visit to Nebraska.
You could have seen the astonishing spectacle
of the sandhill cranes, thousands of them
feeding and even dancing on the shores of the Platte River.

There was no point in pointing out
the impossibility of my being there then
because I happened to be somewhere else,
so I nodded and put on a look of mild disappointment
if only to be part of the commiseration.

It was the same look I remember wearing
about six months ago in Georgia
when I was told that I had just missed
the spectacular annual outburst of azaleas,
brilliant against the green backdrop of spring

and the same in Vermont six months before that
when I arrived shortly after
the magnificent foliage had gloriously peaked,
Mother Nature, as she is called,
having touched the hills with her many-colored brush,

a phenomenon that occurs, like the others,
around the same time every year when I am apparently off
in another state, stuck in a motel lobby
with the local paper and a styrofoam cup of coffee,
busily missing God knows what.

I will say that I participated in a really wonderful event this evening.  A variety-type show that one of my best writer friends hosts and some of my favorite musician friends appear in, as well.  We read poems, sang songs, and told stories. 

The theme for the show was "Momentous."  We chose it over two months ago, thinking that we were going to have something truly momentous to celebrate--the election of the first woman to be President of the United States.  Y'all know how that turned out.  So, instead, we focused on those small momentous things that bring joy and hope in our lives.

Collins lists a few of those momentous things in today's poem--the sandhill cranes of Nebraska, azaleas in  of Georgia, autumn leaves of Vermont.  Yet, he keeps missing these wonders by a few days or a week.  He has to settle for descriptions of these momentous sights, instead.

I did not miss the wonders that unfolded tonight at the library.  I got to sit on stage and listen to it all.  And it was a privilege.  

Here's Saint Marty's moment of hope for today--singing songs with some of my best writer and musician friends.  You know who you are.  It filled Saint Marty's heart with gratitude, like moonlight in a dark night sky.