I am spending a lot of time in my studio with the door open and the sunshine streaming in. It is quiet out here in the country … or is it really? Sitting here I am listening to the wind blowing in the trees, a gently swishing sound that reminds me of the gentle lazy summer surf of a childhood vacation. After the rain, the river across the road was up and audibly rushed toward the Connecticut at breakneck speed, now reduced to a babbling brook it adds to nature’s little farm-let symphony. And then there are the birds.
Young jays are screaming their indignation at having to feed themselves, worried mother robins fly from branch to nest chirping reassurance, a catbird or two are still here, though their babes have fledged. Finches and mourning doves, turkeys calling their little ones, the occasional waxwing hoping the wild cherries are ripe and the paired off cardinals calling one another, just touching base. Redwing blackbirds have stopped by of late, traveling with cowbirds, unlovely for their habits but possessed of a liquid call that sounds like water dropping in a well. Crows visit early and late, cawing their demands and observations. Hawks soar high overhead, their occasional screech sending our ever one-eye-to-the-sky chickens into paroxysms of clucking and comic running for cover. Even the small sparrow and tiny hummingbird add their voice and wing thrums to my summer soundtrack. Why did I think it was quiet here?
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It is the birds that have caught my imagination this year. From Egyptian to Pompeiian frescoes I am abstracting soaring flocks and, new for this fall and as yet unveiled, a hungry singular personality who makes me laugh just a little. The ancient world often depicted birds as decorative elements in paintings – their attitudes and species reflecting messages and omens. All of the birds we are offering represent to us, the freedom of flight and, perhaps more importantly, the decidedly un-quiet joy of song.
