Autumn advances with staggered steps. Windbreaker for the morning ride. Skies of grey with a sly nip to the air. First bite into a crisp apple, newly arrived at the farmer’s market. And that old familiar unnamed feeling, a sense of urgency juxtaposed with futility. Last Friday, I listened to an episode of Radio Lab while returning from a four and a half hour bird walk with some nice folks from the Baltimore Bird Club. One of the stories was about Cotard’s Syndrome, a major symptom of which is a very deep sense that you’re not completely here, that you might not really exist. I briefly wondered if I had a touch of Cotard’s Syndrome…certainly there have been times in the past that I’ve felt that way. These days my existence feels more grounded, but there are always those few moments here and there when I question reality and my presence within it.

Meanwhile I’ve succeeded in luring the birds, and not just the thieving squirrels, to my postage stamp yard. The chatter of chickadees fills my insides with warm golden light. How I’ve missed that sound in my everyday life.

Yup, I reckon it’s time to join the gym again.