Sitting
outside this morning, the Snow pelting my face, I hear Sparrow's
alarm call. She was sitting in a tree just Southeast if me. I wonder,
for a moment if, she is complaining about the Snow pelting her face
as well. I am grateful for the moments I spent with Sparrow this
morning, but as I head inside and out of the storm, I remember that
Sparrow will be out in it for as long as it lasts.
My
culture invites me to think that being inside during the storm is the
right place to be, but Sparrow's and my Ancestors sat outside in
storms together for millenia before there was an “inside.” I
wonder what gifts this discomfort will bring my Sparrow cousin today?
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