Fog seeps across the river valley in the early morning hours as the moon sets and yields to the sun’s bolder rays.  I stand on my porch and listen to the keening of the crows in the trees over the levee road.  Water drips from the bare branches of my Japanese maple. I wonder for the hundredth time whether it will survive the weird winter weather of the California Delta.  I raise my lens and aim its feeble eye towards the bold birds as a sharp crack rises from the center of the island and sets them to their frantic chatter.

I catch myself despising the hunters.  The touching timeless journey of the snow geese brings the flock into their ruthless sights until January wanes.  I resent each retort.  A shudder rolls through my frame.  I turn from the uneasy contemplation and go back into my house.  An inner dialogue haunts me.  How can you kill these majestic beings? I protest.  We shoot to eat, the hunter complains.   My vegan cousin’s voice overlays the argument, reminding me that I persist in consuming eggs and butter with the bulk of my plant-based diet.  The lover who disdained our relationship because I did not respect all life spares one keen and resentful glance as he leaves the bitter plane of compromise.  

The kettle boils.  I pour the steaming water over coarse grounds and watch the fluid drip into the carafe.  Outside my tiny house, the full light calms the birds.  I sense their rise as one.  I envy the company on which they can rely.  Their steadfast flight across the island brings them to a place which I can only sense.  I do not know where they spend their waking hours.   They must have found somewhere magical to lure them through the lingering wisps of fog.

The eggs form soft curdles in the pan.  I smear the last of the jelly onto thick slices of sourdough toast.  The outside air grows quiet, while inside, unbroken perpetual silence surrounds me.  I close my eyes; then lift the warming coffee to my lips. 

It’s the twenty-third day of the ninety-seventh month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.