Delights: April 22 to April 28

April 22: Thirty years ago I achieved a bunch of milestones: (1) I accepted my new job-for-life; (2) I found my partner-for-life; and (3) I attended my first Earth Day on the National Mall. Happy crowds, the Indigo Girls and, as I discovered recently, a commemorative t-shirt. Happy Earth Day!

I wasn’t the only one to get a shirt that day in 1990! Happy Earth Day, dear Anne, a friend since those earliest days.

April 23:  Do you remember when you first learned about a “murder” of crows or a “conclave” of cardinals? Perhaps a “covey” of partridges or a “colony” of penguins? I was browsing the internet when I found this short delightful article. As the author Melissa Mayntz reminds us, “On a good day in the field, a birder might see a raft, a band, a host, a chime, and even a kettle.” Poke your beak here for a bit of fun. And next time you’re outside, perhaps you’ll see a slurp, a charm or a pandemonium. Good luck!

nature bird animal eyes
Photo by Pixabay on

April 24: Teleworking with your children nearby. Everyone does it, even my yoga instructor. As we intoned Namiste today, I heard a small voice calling “I love you, Mommy.”  

April 25: My boys are visitors now, not residents, but they’re still game for a bit of whimsey. So it was that Jeremiah and I concocted our Prius Pancake Picnic, courtesy of the Original House of Pancakes. We parked under a shade tree in the parking lot, lowered half of the back seat, spread out a table cloth and gobbled hot pancakes and eggs within our hutch. Jeremiah acquainted me with the latest developments in paleontology and mass extinctions. And I wondered, what would we call a bunch of Allosaurs? Perhaps a “mouth”? 

April 26: Centering today: “Give yourself permission to be heavy. Allow your breath to be light. Release into the mat. The mat will support you. The ground will support you. Rest.”

IMG_0464April 27: The trees in my neighborhood are almost in full leaf, adding a ceiling to the trunks of maple, oak and dogwood. Today, the setting sun flashed through a narrow gap left between house and tree. It illuminated just two things: a pair of crepe myrtles across the street from each other, bare-limbed and striving. I fancied I saw a moment of sun and earth alignment that could happen only at this exact time on this exact day: our own Stonehenge or Aztec or Mayan temple. I read it as a blessing. Or perhaps an assurance that things will get better.

April 28: A minivan pulled up across the street from my house, followed by another. The children got out to wave at each other, and a family on foot joined the queue. I saw a third car and then a fourth “There’s a long line back there, “ I heard one child say. And she was right. With children rising through sunroofs, balloons and banners and colorful leis trailing from windows, and two kinds of horns saluting the afternoon, a birthday parade set off before me. As I leaned from my window waving and cheering them on, eighteen families rolled around the corner to greet a child. A child who may have preferred the usual sort of celebration but who I hope will never forget this show of love. I won’t.

And here I am, with my shirt thirty years later.

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