The Song of the Mockingbird

Waylaid by Covid-19, we’re still in Oakland, Calif, where we came to visit our son and his family. And like all of you in Stoneham, we wait, under modified house arrest, for the invisible, but dangerous wave to pass.

As some of you, we wait as a family, parents working from home via computer and phone, boys doing their lessons in the morning, shooting hoops in the driveway, biking around the block, or watching videos in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, we play games with our three-year-old granddaughter, sing rhymes, work on letters and numbers, and go for walks. Today she has on a little apron as she wants to make brownies with Nanna.

Although there’s been some bickering, the occasional shove or trash talk, a scraped knee or elbow, for the most part the week has gone smoothly. The highlights have been walks in the hills, passing through live oak and eucalyptus to redwoods and pines. Lots of people on the trails, some with dogs, some on mountain bikes. We saw two on horseback. At lookout points, we are treated with an expansive view of the Bay, looking out across the city and water to San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge. Sunsets are glorious.

We chat with neighbors and strangers, share observations, glad for a chance to socialize, even as we maintain safe distance.

The traffic on the freeway a quarter mile away has diminished, and as life slows down, I’ve become more aware of sounds. I wake up to the eclectic song of the mockingbird, each day, it seems, expanding his repertory. I also hear the little cheeps of sparrows, the plantive sounds of mourning doves, and, on a walk to the park, the hooting of an owl.

Instead of the nine o’clock horn in Stoneham, we hear the bells of St. Jarleth Church, a hundred yards away, ring in the hours. With our granddaughter, we count them.

Across the street in the top twig of a tree I often spy a hummingbird. It’s a tiny thing. Suddenly it has vanished, only to show up in a whirring of green and purple as it sucks nectar our of the desert flowers in our front yard.

In Oakland many homeowners have forsaken grass lawns for succulents and other desert trees and shrubs. This time of year they come alive with blossoms. I want to learn their names. Two houses down, the front yard is brilliant with California poppies, orange, yellow, scarlet.

In Stoneham we’ve heard that spring has come early. Crocus blooms have emerged and the forsythia is out. Is this true? The magnolia and cherry blossoms will not be long.

Passover and Easter are coming. We send best wishes for your safety, happiness and health.