All Natural

Saw a piece of nature in action the other morning. It started when we heard crows cawing frantically outside our window. It kept getting louder and we went for a look and saw a flock of them in a nearby tree – and a large owl sitting on top of a telephone pole. Now and again a crow would launch itself at the owl, who would duck but stubbornly stick to his post. The cawing was drawing more crows and soon the tree was thick with them, and the dives became more frequent. Eventually the owl flew off, the crows in hot pursuit.

I understand this sort of thing happens because both owls and crows have a taste for bird eggs and the tender, newly-hatched young, and crows want a monopoly.

Ah, yes, sweet, gentle nature, if only we wicked humans would give up our corrupt notions of civilization and live more like the natural world . . .

One of the new services our co-op is offering is a half hour of exercise once a week – we’re supposed to do the exercises on our own the other days – and I went down yesterday to have a taste of them. They are pretty gentle, stretching one of those Therabands, a long band of elastic, doing leg lifts while sitting in a chair, and I was shocked to find them not as ridiculously easy as I thought they’d be. All those hours of sitting at my desk writing have at last caught up with me. I go three mornings a week to the Courage Center, which has an Olympic-size pool where I do water aerobics, but obviously I need these new exercises, too. Turning into a senior citizen stinks, and I’d turn down the honor except I like the alternative even less.

On March 4 I’m flying down to Ft. Myers, Florida, to stay for nine days with my mother while my sister Dolores takes a little vacation. Mom is getting frail – she’s 90 – but her mind is clear. She does crossword puzzles and jumbles in ink! But she’s confined to a wheelchair and can no long live alone. She lived with my sister Therese in Wisconsin for a few years, and is now with Dolores. She’s pretty good company, but her medical problems are mounting and her next stop is likely to be a nursing home. We are all dreading that, not least her. I used to be repulsed at a prayer in my Catholic missal for a "happy death," but no longer. I wish I could find that old missal.