No words this morning satisfy. I just sit wishing to understand all the languages of birdsong; they seem so ardent in their squawking. And it seems that their messages are passed from group to group – from here, through the trees back to the river and across, until they reach the mountain where their voices are so soft I can hardly hear. But then they fade into silence and another, more animated conversation begins. I wish I could – like Peter Pan – wish myself to fly out my window and through the circular opening in the tree out back. I would wager it is the way to find Never Never Land…but not today. It’s Primary Day in New York and I have to vote. That’s the role of adults these days. We have responsibilities. Let’s take them seriously so we might get back to dreaming…
