No matter how troubled the world, there are still infinite treasures available to me. Most are concerned with my immediate physical being. The taste of a strawberry. A good night’s sleep. Birdsong in the morning .
Each day, first thing, being an old-fashioned type of guy, I go down the driveway to get the daily paper. No matter what hour, there are some bird noises. Early enough, it is more a beautiful symphony. The various notes and calls assure me that all is well .
Oh, I am quite aware that it may not be so. Birds, like everything else (except maybe bacteria and viruses) are in some danger of extinction in the near future. My printed news may stop at any time. My own brief stay in this universe is coming to an end .
But … today can still be glorious! The world remains vast. Many birds still serenade at breakfast, even as the mix of species varies with climate change. All may not be well, but I can at least pretend it may be so, or will be so, or could be so .
Ignoring the very news I gather off the concrete, I return inside, briefly cheered by wild nature. I suspect life has often been so for almost everyone through all the ages.
HuntingtonHarborThoughts 