The world is a mask that hides the real world.
Thatâs what everybody suspects, though the world we see wonât let us dwell on it long.
The world has ways - more masks - of getting our attention.
The suspicion sneaks in now and again, between the cracks of everyday existenceâ¦the bird song dips, rises, dips, trails off into blue sky silence before the note that would reveal the shape of a melody that, somehow, would tie everything together, on the verge of unmasking the hidden armature that frames this sky, this tree, this bird, this quivering green leaf, jewels in a crown.â¦
As the song dies, the secret withdraws.
The tree is a mask.
The sky is a mask.
The quivering green leaf is a mask.
The song is a mask.
The singing bird is a mask.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Sharing
"A pair of American Kestrels lunching on a freshly-caught shrew. The bird on the left is the male (you can tell by his bright coloring), while the dull one with bloody shrew guts hanging from its mouth is the female. As disgusting as it was to watch, it's still an amazing thing to see these birds of prey and their rituals."
