I heard the disruption of the quiet fall afternoon from inside the house. It sounded as if everything was enveloped in a cloud of incessant clicks and whistles.
Stepping outside, I found the noise coming from the trees above me. At first, I couldn’t make out anything in the foliage, but then I began to see dark patches of feathers.
It was a chattering of European starlings. A suitable term, since it seemed as if they were all talking at once, though it was impossible to decide if what I heard was mating calls, idle gossip, or perhaps their common prayer.
A few birds took to the air, followed by more until there were hundreds flying together. It was a murmuration, and I could almost hear the swoosh as they circled, dove and climbed as one.
There were no collisions, no vying for the front of the flock, and no birds taking off on their own. They simply graced the sky with their aerial ballet.
As they dissolved in the distance, I became aware that I was happy. In that moment, while nothing in my life had changed, I was at peace with it all.
I remembered author Kurt Vonnegut talking about his Uncle Alex, a Harvard-educated insurance salesman in Indianapolis. Uncle Alex used to complain that, in general, human beings seldom noticed when they were happy.
Vonnegut said his uncle often acknowledged the sweet times. Drinking lemonade under an apple tree on a summer day, Uncle Alex would remind everyone, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”
My encounter with the starlings was nice. My petty concerns paled in the light of this gift of nature, this avian ode to the beauty and unity of creation.
I realize that, at my age, I don’t have the day-to-day responsibilities and attendant worries of a younger person. It’s a hard world out there, at times cruel and threatening. A blithe “hakuna matata” won’t cut it.
But practically every day, there are some of those “sweet” moments Uncle Alex recognized.
It could be anything, and maybe that’s why we fail to register it, why we don’t see its effect on us.
It could be holding a child, the hug of a friend, the smell of a flower, the calm of silence, an unexpected call, or sometimes even a simple “thank you.”
Marking these moments with our own “If this isn’t nice, what is?” is the basis of gratitude.
And without gratitude, there is no hope.
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