Hearing the Wren Sing

Yes, as it always has and ever will, the world offers us plenty of reasons to  be sad, and it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the suffering of humanity.

My personal rebellion is choosing to be happy instead (defiantly, teeth-grittingly happy, damn it) and I've been trying every day to keep myself open to what's beautiful and good.

So  I have been collecting miracles to share with you, and today I offer a heartrending bird song that I have long loved and listened for...and wondered whose it was.

Recently, via birdwatching friends (specifically Carey and Rebecca), I learned that it is a canyon wren.

Listen: Bird Song

Lovely, isn't it? It's been described as a waterfall of descending notes. Clearly liquid. And even if  that little audio clip with its other distracting sounds isn't the best way to hear it, I think you can get its essence. I've always imagined it's a song you'd hear in heaven's garden.

And I bow, not knowing to what, as did W.S. Merwin, in his beautiful poem For the Anniversary of My Death. See how the wren enters at the end:

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day

When the last fires will wave to me

And the silence will set out

Tireless traveler

Like the beam of a lightless star

Then I will no longer

Find myself in life as in a strange garment

Surprised at the earth

And the love of one woman

And the shamelessness of men

As today writing after three days of rain

Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease

And bowing not knowing to what

I was going to move on and tell you about a few more wondrous things, but you know what? It's awfully hard to follow Merwin or a canyon wren.

Let's leave it at that for now.