Sisters

Here on Sunnyhill life is in full swing. I’ve seen 16 goslings poking their tender little heads above the grass. I should make a sign for our driveway – Slow, goose crossing. The grass on either side of the driveway is shorter, so the geese often congregate there. Most of the time we’re able to drive slowly enough that they feel they have plenty of time to waddle off into the safety of the tall grass. But yesterday, even though I drove very slowly, a gaggle of them sat close to the foot of the road for too long, watching me, but not moving. Then, seeing that I kept coming, they rose into the air in a honking mass and flew off to the pond.

Waking to the dawn chorus of geese and bobolinks and redwing blackbirds, I remembered for a moment how quiet our hill is in the winter. It’s hard to imagine this lush green hill covered in snow. But it was, and not that long ago. Now the bobolinks and redwings sit on the tall grasses and sing their pride of place. The swallows swoop in and out of the barn and do their evening acrobatics over the lawn, vacuuming up insects. The geese waddle. A huge snapping turtle, about to cross the bottom of our driveway, peers at me, pulls in his head, and backs away slowly. The elegant heron flies from the swamp across Gulf Road to the pond on some daily mission. The beavers have been busy extending that swamp, and they’ve built a second lodge. A black bear has scattered our garbage across the road, and was caught on camera by a neighbor.

So much life. But in my inbox this morning was the news of two sad deaths. My dear friends Barbara and Marlene each lost a sister, just a day apart. Each person leaves a particular hole in the life of each person who loved them. It’s a hole that fills in gradually with memories in place of hopes or expectations. But even as it fills in a way, the hole remains, and is never filled. Barbara and Marlene each had deeply affectionate ties to their sisters, and just reading of these losses I can feel them echo in my own heart. Life ends. If we have been lucky, it leaves many happy memories, it leaves a sweet longing, it leaves little regret. The dandelions that covered the hill in yellow glory just days ago have gone to seed. It is not much comfort to know that this is the way of all things, but it is all the comfort we have.

As Joe reminded us so often, hug your loved ones.