The Swallows Arrive
April 3–8, Amherst, MA USA
Seasonal Memoir #67
This is a potpourri edition of the seasonal memoir…
We got the second booster, as 50+ is now considered old and vulnerable by the state of Massachusetts. I’m good with that, since that’s how I feel most of the time anyways! That makes it shot #6 for me (two Sinopharm before I could get the Pfizers). Am I now super-vaccinated, or just vax-addicted? And no Covid, yet… Bring on the monkeypox vaccine!
I can empathize with the devotion bird watchers bring to the activity. I tried it out (sitting in my backyard, not traipsing about the woods at 5:30 in the morning, mind you), and I can appreciate the beauty of these aviators. But I also concluded that birds spend most of their time just fighting each other in a never-ending turf war. That’s dull. It’s rather more interesting to fantasize how birds have descended from dinosaurs, and that the seagull’s distant relative was a T-Rex.
There is an art to being overwhelmed, as it’s not just about the science of stress hormones. Here’s my typical experience: Advanced planning goes out the window. You are working day to day, sometimes hour to hour just to keep your head above water. You’re drinking from the firehose, trying not to drown. While this is undoubtedly intense, it can also lead to focus, where you can be especially productive; you reach flow. (I once worked with a guy who refused to do what I asked of him unless I gave him a hard deadline; otherwise, he couldn’t get things done). While this state of overwhelm is difficult to keep up for more than a few days, I can nevertheless offer some advice: slow things way down (i.e. don’t multitask), giving your full attention to whatever you are doing. Put the blinders on, and let go of the small stuff. Invest in yourself via sleep, nutrition, and avoiding alcohol or sugary treats (though stress eating is also satisfying!). Most of all, just accept your reality, and get it done. Lamenting your state is a total waste of energy.
This past year in the US has been the best of our dog Kiwi’s life: greenery, new smells and animals; and proper off-the-leash walks. It hasn’t been all smooth sailing, as Kiwi can get himself into some mischief (being a Jack Russell terrier after all). We were on a walk at dusk in the back field (owned by Amherst College), and he was touring the cornfields. I saw a herd of deer. Then, I saw Kiwi make a run for them. They immediately bolted into the neighboring woods, and I laughed, until I saw Kiwi still chasing them, a good 50 meters behind them. Uh oh. The irony of a tiny dog chasing without fear a half-dozen strong and healthy deer did not escape me. What would happen if they just turned around and faced him? But the deer were being deer (flight mode) and Kiwi had irrational confidence flowing through him; nature was at work. It all seemed amusing until Kiwi disappeared deep into the woods. I followed. No deer (or Kiwi) were to be seen or heard. It was getting dark. Oh shit. All my calls went unanswered. After about 15 minutes, as I contemplated the merits of panic, I saw a few deer reappear in the woods about 100 meters off, standing still. The scene was serene. Hmm. Would Kiwi be close behind? He was! He had lost track of the deer, and wandered back toward the edge of the wood. He casually came back to me after I called him, no worse than the wear. What a thrill that must have been for him!
