Thursday, December 24, 2009

Squawks and hawks

Feeling a little tired and achey but am determined to attend the Festal Christmas Eve service in Hudson tonight. I've never been to a midnight mass (this one's at 11) and it just feels right to go. I would like to be in company. There is to be a choral sing at 10:30. I hope it means that all can join in, if they wish. I like to sing, maybe especially hymns and carols. I enjoy trying to harmonize. I used to think that I was a better singer than I am but was humbled many years ago when at the friendly invitation of a coworker, I tried out for a well-established choral group in an Upper East Side church. At the first rehearsal the loaded stands of practiced, pitch-perfect voices burst out of the gates into galloping oratorio. I tried to keep up and was dismayed to discover that I couldn't hear myself sing. I had no idea what notes I might be hitting, and feared that they might be no more than random squawks. The other choristers clearly didn't have this problem, or the angst that accompanied it. They sallied forth, blandly and efficiently turning page after page, on-the-mark and oblivious. I was duly impressed with them, and took up swimming.

Today at the conservation area a hawk - a harrier hawk? - flew very near, ahead of me on the path along the woods. I am sure it was lingering, hanging out, allowing me to admire it. Also, maybe we were both appreciating the sunset this Christmas Eve, so rosy as to suggest a dawn in the western hills. Wouldn't that be nice!

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