Birds On The Brain

It’s been four long years.

The last time I was in the rainforest was March 2020.
In Papua, Indonesia.

Tracking the elusive birds of paradise.
Which I saw.

Oh, did I see!

(That month brought in, as you may recall, an almost universal chorus of mumbling. Not to mention a veritable epidemic of anti-social behavior).

The next time I will be in the jungle?
In March. In Costa Rica.

To see toucans for the first time in the wild.

But I will also see my beloved warblers.

Because that is where they spend the winter.

Before heading up to Cambridge’s Mount Auburn Cemetery in May.

They winter in South and Central America.

Before spending the summer in Canada – to make more warblers.
Which makes them the ultimate snowbirds.

Last year at this time, I was seeing these guys.

In Antarctica.

The final continent for my birding obsession.

Thanks to Alla, my London gal pal.

In seeing the toucans in the rainforest, I will be following in her footsteps.

She inspires me.

In all sorts of ways.

You will never feel more alive.

Than when you feel life all around you.

And hear it too.

When I get back from the jungle, it will be time to teach my second course for Beacon Hill Seminars.

It will be called Birds on the Brain: Contemplating the Great Odes.
Featuring Shelley’s To a Skylark.

And Keats’s Ode to a Nightingale.

Call me a bird brain?
I could hardly object.

The rest of the year will hold other delights.

But one trip of a lifetime.

At a time.

With the time I have left.

Time waits for no man.
The greatest crime is to waste it.

So I will see everything I can possibly see.

Before I lie feeding the flowers.

(“Pushing up daisies”, as it were.)

I have been studying very hard.
In preparation.

2024: The Year of the Bird?

Sounds about right.

To me.