Robins on my lawn

I saw my young Robins today, the ones who fledged last week. They spent the week deep in the bushes about my lawn, in the thick branches of the lilac probably behind some floribunda thorns.
Today they made their first foray out onto the lawn. Still well close to the edge of my property where the safety of a low branch offers some sanctuary. When the birds fledged, there was clearly one bird who was ready before the rest, and one that was decidedly behind who only raised a beak to be fed but otherwise rested. The more mature bird was half-hanging out of the nest and these Robins had built on a ledge in a place that kept the birds rather close to the ground but bone-dry in the worst of weather. The choice must have favored them because they all fledged, the weakest staying an extra day or more. Today I looked out onto the lawn and all four were there, as mom and dad tut-tutted them and tried to call them in closer to the wooded edge. The largest baby was near the smallest and was already feeding itself on some lawn slugs. The youngest looked smaller with a stubby tail and many spots on the breast. The strongest was calling to the weakest imploring it to get out of the middle of the lawn and into safer territory. Finally the little bird, cheeping madly,
making every mistake a young bird makes, finally hopped a few steps in the right direction.
Then stopping to rest, the older but still just-fledged Robin began it's insistent lecture again, and again the youngest bird took a few more hops into safer territory. This went on for awhile until the baby was safe at the edge of the woods with the parent bird just arrived nearby, tut-tutting from time to time. I noticed the dapper visage and vigor of the strongest baby bird, already feeding itself and looking out for its youngest sibling in a very parental way. The family group is already moving along, the young learning to find their own food... and the youngest found itself on the lawn with the others, but really needing another day to flutter in the bushes and gain some strength. Mom and Dad are ever solicitous of their young charges, carefully guiding them through their short formative period and onward to adulthood. Their handsome spotted breasts serve them well now, in the patchy sunlight of my yard, their pale backs and camouflage chests making them very hard to spot indeed. The Robins, but also other thrushes, including the Bluebird, are known for their strong parental instincts and careful sheparding of their young.
A Bluebird offspring from early in the year will even help feed the young of a later brood.
In this way, a bird so troubled by competition for nest sites continues nesting into August when the wren and house sparrow have finally closed up their nurseries. In the great pantheon of bird families, the thrushes occupy a unique niche. Their melodic evening songs, low-to-the-ground lifestyle and usually brown plumage make them the cheerful everyman of the bird world, shy and quiet in the heat of day, jovial and carefree as the sun makes its descent. When I see a Robin, if I think about it a bit, it's a really extraordinary thing.... this mini-dinosaur ripping worms from the lawn and carefully, concernedly raising and feeding it's young. Or maybe it's the big moist eyes and industrious manner that make me take a second look. Common, yes, but still capable of arousing wonder. Perhaps in old age I'll fall in love with the sparrow. That may take a bit longer though.

Radioactive but doing well

Well I'm radioactive and must carry a card now for 1 month. I will set off detectors employed by homeland security in toll booths and the like. I could be pulled over by a black car... and
they might say: "Paper's please!".

It's quite possibly the end of the cancer and I'll just need non-invasive tests and scans
every 3 months, then 6 months, then yearly. What an experience this has been!
Starting at the end of February driving through an 8 inch snowstorm to get a biopsy.
And then flying off to Orlando knowing I might get bad news. Then getting the bad news on
a payphone with Disney music playing. The shock of a big ugly tumor - you look in the mirror
and you see death just growing out of your neck. Ring around the rosy indeed.
That song came from the Black Plague. Radiologist chatted for 15 minutes with me...
cute asian man. About 35. He said my post-surgery scan showed I'd gone to world-class
surgeon. Phew!

I'm in isolation for 7 days but can go out to the store... just not stand next to anyone because
I might damage their thyroid gland. I'm not afraid of feeling a little sick. I've been through a lot
and I want to say, more needle sticks in my arm in 3 months than seems just ... I could never be a junkie! Today is a lazy day and the skies are bright blue. Yesterday big thunderstorms ended our heat spell. 90, 94, 97, and yesterday was 96 in New Paltz. We'll be back up to the 90s soon.

You know, I really discovered myself a bit more with this illness. It's a transformative event.
I can see the negative self-talk because with an illness that happens a lot....
So you get to observe yourself a lot more - as I got closer and closer to panic, I got a chance to
practice over and over the kind of self-management I needed to get by. Death Panic gets only so bad, and then it crashes. The next time it came, I saw the death panic ramping up and I caught it sooner. Fear is exhausting.

It's like, the panic isn't me. It's a habit. When I was young I couldn't see the difference between myself and my thoughts at all. These late life epiphanies....
And death panic underlies so many of our other fears. To actually get to deal with death fright
and live a few more years or more... that's a great gift. Not that you still don't lose your cool and
want to give someone the finger who cuts you off in traffic. But the temper just runs out of
power so quickly now... 2 seconds later you're chuckling to yourself. But this tumor was really
of epic proportions... almost like it came down from on high. I flatter myself, perhaps...
but this was a big-honkin' cancer, huge with 2 different forms of Thyroid Cancer inside it.
The other side of the thyroid? Clear, clean, not even a benign growth. "unremarkable"
said the Pathology report. I'm gonna have lunch and go for a radioactive walk.