IN JUNE, THE RED-HEADED BIRD SINGS LOVE SONGS

There is just something about a 

          morn in June, 

                 with its bright 

   blue sky, its cool mountain air, 

      and the perkiness of the 

plants and flowers...that calls me

      to arise...and be a part of it.

It is almost as if all nature 

      has had a good night of respite

(in the shade) from the "burning

      of the noonday heat

            and the burdens of 

    the day..." and is awake early 

and declaring the Glory of God!

I had gathered my beat-up

    little leather notebook, Cross

rolling-ball pen, and thrown on

      my summer weight flannel

Fillson shirt (these early June 

     mornings can be a bit cool), 

         and ensconced myself 

      with my hot coffee

  at the faded white lawn table

       over by the tomatoes

    and was surveying the

         interesting things

          all around me.

Through the neighborhood trees

      and houses I spied the

Sandia Mountains, five miles 

       east, and being still in shade

they were already majestic 

            but did not look 

like "watermelon" slices 

                    yet, this early.

A chicken hawk was gracefully

     soaring above on meager 

unseen updrafts...kind of looking 

        for some juicy earthly

     breakfast morsel, 

             like maybe a mouse!

As I sipped my coffee, I heard

     little bird noises 

       just across the white fence

in the piñon tree...

Our two resident house finches, 

    little birds which hang out

regularly on our grain-feeder

    outside my writing window...

were flitting and flirting and

         pecking at each other....

from tree limb to limb they 

     hopped and frolickd....

That "bird-pecking" looked a 

    little bit like beak-smooching

to me.

Ah the bigger one, with the bright

     red head---the male--was

makng, oh such-tiny sounds as if---

     singing to the cute little

               girl bird...

Listen....I could barely hear:

     "peep...a..peepa...peep...

         tra la...peepa..la...

            you...my...baba...

               la...la..peep..."

He sounded good...like he had

     taken peep lessons...

somewhere.

As I sipped and meditated, and

     took in the marvels of 

this early June day, I remembered

     Isaac Watt's song he 

wrote almost four centuries ago 

     paraphrasing Psalm.    ---

"And heaven and nature sing!"

and then I rememberd Haydn's 

        "CREATION:"

"The heavens are telling the glory

       of God,

The wonder of His work displays

        the firmament."

And I wrote these thoughts down---

      in my beat-up leather

notebook---

     they might fit into 

         a good poem---

    one of these days.

*******************

BY MIL

17 JUNE 17