A bit of appreciation

In addition to writing a blog as a hobby, I also write songs. The first song I wrote was at 19, for a girlfriend. However, it wasn’t until 2017 that I began writing songs more seriously. I must have churned out almost 10.

One tune I wrote in 2017 was called “You Gotta Say Grace.” It’s a song that reminds the listener to be thankful for the small but amazing things that occur in daily life and to try not and overlook or disregard them.

The first line of the song:  “Sometimes/In our lives/We fail to appreciate.”

And it’s true. I mean, how often do we stop to appreciate that our bodies are working properly or to enjoy the feeling of warm sunlight on our skin? It’s super easy to get lost in routine and in the discomforts of having to perform certain routines.

For example, this morning I went for a walk with my dog at the dog park. It was around 6 a.m. and all I could do really, or least initially, was focus on how tired I was and how biting the wind was. But after some time at the park, sitting at a bench and playing fetch with the pup, I realized that I was “failing to appreciate.”

So I had an idea. Because I’ve been into birds lately -- have a look at one of my recent blog posts -- I thought I would write about all the birds I saw during my walk to and from the dog park and where I saw them. Such an exercise, I thought, could be fun and would help me renew the promise I made to myself when I wrote “You Gotta Say Grace.”

OK, so. . . after I left my apartment, the first bird I saw -- one that I see everywhere in Hamburg -- was a Eurasian Blackbird. It was walking on a large lawn adjacent to an apartment building, foraging for food. Eurasian blackbirds, the males at least, are small, have black plumage and short yellow beaks. Thanks to a memory game I recently got on birds, I knew that the blackbird that I was looking at on the lawn -- based on its appearance, brown plumage instead of black -- was a female. Pretty cool.

At the park -- a really pretty park I should add, one that is right on the Alster -- my dog lunged at something that had been on a railing that I was leaning against. I had been looking down at my iPod before my dog jumped forward, but when she did, I looked up to see a crow flying away.

After the park, I decided to walk down a street that I don’t usually walk on because I wanted to get rolls from a bakery. At one point, I paused before a sign in front of a house that was actually a veterinary clinic. As I stood there reading the opening hours -- it’s always good to know the opening hours of a nearby vet when you have a dog -- a small little bird flew onto the waist-high metal fence in front of me.

I had seen this bird before, but it wasn't one I see often. It was very small -- maybe a little bigger than a sparrow, but rounder, one might even say bulbous, almost like the shape of a Hostess “Snoball” -- and was mostly tan, though its plumage was a blood orange red around the chest and face. It was a European Robin.

Still on the same street, while looking up at one of the many nice, 3-story apartment buildings facing it, I saw two Magpies, one of which was hopping along on a balcony.

Once I got to the main street, I saw one of my favorite birds: the Eurasian coot. I like the Eurasian Coot for two reasons. One, though it’s black, its distinctive white bill and the nub above it, located between its eyes, are white, which makes the creature look like it’s wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask. I get such a kick out of this feature and the bird's overall appearance. Two, this bird is out in all weather -- even in the coldest days of winter. When the swans are all gone and the ducks aren’t anywhere to be found, you can still find the Eurasian Coot out, dutifully motoring around. Because the bird is so rugged and so often "on the scene" I've come to think of it as a real hard worker -- a "grinder," and I this is an attribute I can relate to, though of course I'm anthropomorphizing.

After the bakery, I headed home, and on the street leading to my apartment, I saw a pigeon fly up onto the roof of a two-story house. However, this pigeon wasn’t your average pigeon. No, it was a wood pigeon. Wood pigeons are like common pigeons that have received an upgrade. If the common pigeon -- also known as the rock pigeon -- were to be dusted off and began doing yoga -- it would look more like the wood pigeon.

So there you have it, a normal walk transformed. The walk could have been just a routine thing. But what fun would there have been in that? “Sometimes/In our lives/We fail to appreciate.” I think this time at least I succeeded instead.