The Fish Pond: The Oriole

My mother was a huge sports fan. She liked ACC basketball, the Olympics, and Redskins football, but her big love was baseball, Baltimore Orioles baseball specifically. She learned how to score baseball games as a child when my grandfather coached my uncle's little league games, and she had a steno notebook that she spent a huge investment of time with a pencil and ruler creating grids where she could score the games. We were one of the first families to get cable in our neighborhood, not because of my dad or to let us watch MTV (because we weren't allowed to watch it at first, no matter how much we whined), but to subscribe to the Home Team Sports channel that broadcast Orioles games. Mom would watch the games and score them in her notebook. When she died we found something like five or six full steno notebooks of scoring of Orioles games. We tossed them. I wish now that I'd kept at least one of them.

About a month ago I stopped riding the exercise bike very much (not that I didn't like it or that it wasn't working, but I get bored easily), opting instead to go a few times a week, or however often I can get someone to watch the kids, to the Soccerplex and walk the trails there. They have what they call the "Heartsmart" trail that is .8 miles long and loops through the grounds around a small pond. I like that they have the distances marked out in .1 mile sections, so I know how far I've gone, it includes some challenging hills (hey, this is Maryland), and it's a peaceful way for me to both get a break from the kids and clear my head and take care of my body, too.

The pond itself is teeming with wildlife. Not so much the wildlife I have at home, but with several species of frogs, especially some very vocal bullfrogs, and birds. Ducks, geese, some sort of egret or small heron, all sorts of things. It was here, on a walk a few weeks ago, that I saw my very first actual non-mascot Baltimore Oriole. There is a small stand of river birches about 15 feet or so from the edge of the pond, and this little oriole has been following me on my walks, hopping from tree to tree and back each time I pass by on another lap around the pond. It doesn't seem to matter what time of day I come, morning, afternoon, or evening, that little bird is there to greet me with a chirp and a bob of his head. I've come to look forward to seeing him each time I walk.

This year marks 23 years since my mother died. This year marks the first birthday where my life passed the length of my mother's life. And this year has been the very first year when I've felt at peace. I think the little bird has something to do with it, reminding me that she's here, everywhere, if I only take the time to look around and see.