It's 1 a.m. and I lie alone in my tent in the woods by the lake. I've never tented alone before. In the past there was always someone camping with me or nearby. I thought I might be too scared to tent alone, deep in the woods, but I find I'm not. I have moments of 'heightened alertness,' listening to night sounds, but for the most part, I hear a constant chorus of loons, swans, ducks, and geese. My "fowl" friends are always there in the background making noise, like brothers and sisters chattering away in another room as I drift off to sleep. If they are quiet, I know it's about 2 am. Their chatter is quite comforting. I have the sense that: I'm not really alone, life is all around me. The realization is akin to a pregnant woman knowing without a doubt that she is not alone - not by a long-shot.
I will miss their sound when I am forced to move inside for the winter. I wish I could learn their language and communicate with them. But as hard as I try to imitate their sounds, I can only really observe. I will always be an "honorary" member of the tribe, a distant cousin -- but still kin.
Birds: natural, FREE, able to just BE.
No politics, no ambitions, no agenda, no pretensions, just free spirits.
How I wish I were one of them - (maybe a Hawk or an Eagle or a great horned Owl.)
(music actually starts around 1:59)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53Rm3HnrEYQ
The Voice of the Rain by Stephen Chatman:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNrngdvXroI
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