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Just when I had adjusted to, but never fully accepting,
The absence of morning birdsong.
It punctured the fall morning crispness for about 5-7 minutes.
The perfect length for a Sunday morning sermon.

A redwing blackbird’s song.

Redwings are a quintessential spring bird.
Always in a calvacade at the feeder.
Because this fall redwing blackwird was alone.
It required that I listen to its exegesis of the fall Gospel.

Spring is being planted as the leaves fall.
Use fall and winter to get used to calm as you work on yourself.
Be patient enough to let things come to you.
Like the spark of the redwing blackbird.

_______________________________________

Photo: John Carrel


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