Sometimes, people need to stop and refresh! When life is throwing a wrench at us, removing ourselves from the issue at hand can give us the clarity we need to finish what we were dealing with. In this, my first ‘How-To’s‘ post, an excerpt from Dad’s short story, “The Crows are Quacking”, tells the story of Just such a thing happening to my parents when I was five years old.
It was 1955; our new house was in one of the first tracts to sprout among the orange groves surrounding a lovely little town nestled close to the San Gabriel mountains; some thirty miles east of Los Angeles.
Our moving day had been hectic. I was able to get a truck, but none of the promised help had materialized; it was late and we were very tired. I was trying, with little success, to connect the kitchen range, when Barb burst into the room.
“What’s that noise?”
“Me, cussin’!”
“No, it’s outside. Listen!”
I stopped mumbling; then it was my turn: “What is it?”
I scrambled to my feet, and we both hurried outside.
“It’s coming from the east,” Barb said, pointing.
It is probably safe to say that most of us have heard the call of a crow. If not in person, on radio or TV, but until you’ve heard several hundred of them returning to their rookeries, you ain’t heard nothin’!
Because the sound had preceded the birds by a considerable distance, we were forced to wait for some time before catching a glimpse of its source. I don’t recall there being any apprehension, but anticipation and curiosity were at a peak.
Finally, the first of the flocks came into view. They moved in a general direction, but there seemed to be great confusion with regard to their eventual destination. Although the din seemed to be the result of differing points of view concerning that objective, it soon became evident that they knew exactly where they were going, and everything else was just fun and games. We watched, totally enthralled, as they came in seemingly endless waves. Circling above the groves, they dove, landed and flew again to repeat the process, many times.
Suddenly, I remembered what I’d been doing and glanced at my watch.
“Sheesh! I’ve wasted fifteen minutes watching those crazy birds.”
Rushing back into the kitchen, I grabbed my wrench and wiggled in behind the stove. Surprisingly, what had appeared hopeless before, seemed less so now. A brief examination revealed a place where I could fudge a little; and, in a few minutes, the pilot was lit, and staying on!
Those crazy birds!
Obviously, the interruption was unintended but never the less, highly helpful and effective. Maybe, following this event, mom and dad listened for avian packs approaching when things they were working on weren’t going so smoothly. What about you? When you’re tired and trying, with little success, to address life head on, what have you used to remove yourself from the moment so you can return with a new outlook?