Sunday 13 July 2014

The Last Robin

It's official.  Germany won the 2014 FIFA World Cup today.  In the last minute just as I am starting to write this they are hollering and shouting and cheering and tooting horns of all varieties everywhere.  Why am I not cheering with them?  I did cheer for Brazil in 1998 when they won and there was a huge Samba party on Vancouver's Commercial Drive following the event.  I likely would have cheered had Argentina won, not because I don't like Germany but because I speak Spanish, probably. 

I have German ancestry, from my mother's side.  In the shadow of the Second World war I grew up believing that Germany, because of Hitler and his Nazis, was an inherently flawed country and I did feel a sense of stigma about my German ethnicity.  Germany long ago disowned its Nazi past, all war crimes were confessed and punished and the country developed into a land of model citizens of Europe.  Even for all the gigantic strides of progress made in Germany as the country morphed into an icon of good social democracy it still seems that any praise that they garner is at least qualified by  many unspoken faint damns.

So, congratulations to Germany and sympathy to Argentina, and I'm not even a soccer, or a sports, fan.  But the World Cup is fun, and engaging and this is the Beautiful Game.  Speaking of the game today I wonder now if that was the reason and not simply the hot weather that had so many people out jogging, bicycling and hiking in the woods early this morning.

I went early today, arriving shortly after eight this morning, expecting to have the forest to myself and to my disappointment it was one of the most crowded with festering humanity hikes I have ever had there.  Annoying really, the way cyclists and joggers show so little consideration for walkers.  I often think the beauty of this forest is lost and wasted on them.  In order to really appreciate the natural beauty and the silent music of the forest one has to go slowly, taking time to listen, observe, watch and absorb.  None of this happens when you are in a hurry.  I'm not saying that cyclists and joggers should be banned from Pacific Spirit Park, but perhaps regulated.  I would like to see more trails blocked off and reserved to walkers only, especially narrow trails where it is absolutely asinine to expect walkers to coexist well with joggers and cyclists.

I sat on my favourite bench this morning with the outlook onto the forest.  A solitary robin was singing.  The last of the summer.  I have noticed that July 13 always seems to be the final day when robins sing here.  The nesting season is over.  The males no longer have to defend territory.  The young are hatched and fledged and now they can relax and prepare for the autumn migration.  Our summer robins will be flying down to California and Mexico in time for the arrival of the northern robins that will be wintering here from Yukon and Alaska.

They have a beautiful sweet loud song that suggests cold mountain streams gushing with sweet pure water or the flavour of apples eaten fresh off the tree.  There is something inherently good and wholesome about robins.  Spring would be so sad and desolate without their singing.  I sometimes think of their song as something that all robins across the continent share.  It is the same song and it begins at sunset on the Atlantic coast and the robins there pass the song along to the other robins gradually across the country until the robins here on the Pacific side also take up the song which then falls silent in the ocean where it sleeps till the coming dawn.

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