Willow Oak Intro.

Since early this year, before the pandemic, I began writing what I heard or saw from my window facing the willow oak in our back yard. Sometimes entries are very short, and sometimes longer. Many are observations of what nature is doing. And sometimes I stray outside the back yard to other spaces, other people, around me. I will begin with Monday of this week.

I had the joy of picking strawberries in a wide field under a hazy sun in company with two Chinese scholars stuck here till June because of rare expensive flights going to China now. The field was dotted with families that looked happy to escape the confines of their homes. Even in the long checkout line practicing social distancing, people did not complain.

Today is another cloudy day in a series of dark days. The fully-clothed trees are shaking their heads in the wind as I did yesterday upon news of another death of a beloved. The blackbirds at the feeders fit my mood.

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