Insanity at my Window

I'm guilty of this on many counts, but right now (actually for over 24 hours now) a red bird has been trying to get in my bedroom window. He keeps banging his head on the glass. He regroups on the tree branch not a yard away, shakes his head a bit, then charges back to the window pane. There must be some terrific homing instinct that drives him.

So, I took off the screen and opened the window full. What do you suppose happened then?
I think I"ll leave you hanging a little.

What is it that makes us, humans who are not so driven by instinct, do this same thing? Why do we repeatedly do something we know will not work? I suppose sometimes it might be sheer force of will, that drive that makes us great beings. We just know that one more chip at the stone, one more attempt--and we will break through! That's noble. That's determination.

I think, however, that more often we try and try again because we do not see the alternatives. We just know that this way is The Way, so it's the only one we put any effort or thought into. Other times we might stick with what we've always done (even if it failed) because we are not comfortable with the trying. We don't want to do something new and different because that is (on top of everything else) the Unknown.

In my case, finish carpentry is a weakness. I usually just stick with pirate ship club house carpentry. Whenever I have done something inside the house, it's been mediocre, like that I put sheetrock in my closet but never did mud and tape it. Or that I did mud and tape the laundry room but never sanded it out and painted it. Or the shelves I made of MDF but never painted or trimmed...the list goes on. I just take it so far, typically to the point that it functions, and quit, saying to my self that this is all I can do. (In my case I know very well the initial point of failure for me, back in middle school shop where an overzealous shop teacher failed me repeatedly on a little jewelry box project, but that's another story.) So, in this carpentry instance, it's pure/simple fear of failure that keeps me in my rut.

BUT NO MORE. We have a contractor who respects homeowner sweat equity. He's willing to coach me on laying the wood floor and finishing the stain on the woodwork, so I'm going to take him up on it. The way I see it, I'll be learning all this carpentry stuff while also getting my home made-over. A double win!!

Back to the bird.

If you guessed the bird would then shrug his wings and take off, you'd be wrong. He's kept at it for at least another 30 minutes now.

The window bears some explanation. It's a pair of double hung windows. He's beating against the top glass of only one of the four choices. The lower 1/4 is the one that is wide open, but he never attempts it. Oh the headache he must have, for yes, he continues his same futile practice.

I'm starting to think even instinct would guide the bird to try the open window. Maybe he's just insane.

Blow me away

Winds this week have been typical--for western Kansas! Around these gentler parts, it's unusual to have had relentless wind for something like two weeks.

It was so unusual for me this early morning to step outside to stillness! I have grown accustomed to fighting the storm door, the car door...to fighting the steering wheel like a ship's wheel in a gale. I was so surprised to find it so still--it actually reminded me of the "calm before the storm," so much so that I said as much aloud at that moment.

There's not much more creepy than that humid stillness, when the sky goes green/gold and you can hear everything and yet nothing at all, for the wind is no more and the birds and bugs are hunkered down. Last time I recall, I could only hear the dripping of run off from the roof, measuring the infinite time before the really rough stuff hit us. (At least, where I was at that time, no tornado, per se.)

It's that way with much of life, too, this twisted pacific moment before it all goes wild.