Isabella Bird Miscellany

meet isabella bird Things toss us around, messing with our peaceful being; big stuff and small irritations. You know that unsettled or just plain angry attitude that can drape us like a wet blanket. Yeah, that one, and I was wearing it – not sure why, but I was. Most mornings I take my Bella girl for a walk before work. Today was no exception. Time is short on work days, so the pace was quick. Belle is a funny girl, all brave one moment and frozen in fear the next. There’s a grade school near us, and like most, someone comes over the loud speaker at the beginning of the day to say good morning and give a few announcements. My sweet puppy has taken to being afraid of the voice in the wind. There’s no apparent reason, really, it’s a voice. Nonetheless, she is frightened. Lesson from a brown dog: we are held securely and talked to in a soothing voice when the loud speaker is blaring When this happens, she freezes and won’t go another step, or she tries to dart...

I chose a seat by the window. There weren’t too many available... The glass went all the way to the floor. A wood bar was mounted at counter height with wobbly swivel stools. The view was urban; sidewalk, cars and shops. An older couple walked by leisurely, holding hands, while a couple of twenty somethings smiling and talking had a fast pace. I like watching from my fish bowl. A small bird pecked at what I can only assume were crumbs from someone’s leftover muffin. It’s quite content with scraps. The day itself was rainy and really blowing. Mid-fall leaves trying to cling to nearly bare branches, knowing that soon they too will join the others spread on the sidewalk. It’s pretty. I’m sort of oblivious to the goings on around me in the coffee house, instead giving my attention to what’s outside. While there’s activity inside, much is happening outside the window. Choosing where I sit – Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or insp...

aspen leaves look like golden coins tinkling from weathered white branches wind child, unseen, nevertheless felt; no origin or home.  wind child comes and goes, disturbing all she blows through and past,  over and under, tossed and turned.  wind child blusters and plays a mirthful game of hide and seek I stepped out the front door to a blast of wind. It wasn’t hot and it wasn’t cold, just wind gusting on an autumn afternoon. Why do we use the word fall more than autumn? Dry leaves clattered down the sidewalk, as a cloud of dirt and debris from a nearby construction site forced me to close my eyes, and I hoped Bella was doing the same. Taking a left on the next block, pine needles lay like pick-up sticks on the sidewalk and late season purple asters grew. My senses were on high alert. The wind does that; it disturbs everything. I felt it blowing hair out of my face; saw it kicking up and knocking down leaves of almost irid...