March 2026 SOLC–Day 23
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
http://www.twowritingteachers.org

I step outside, and a flock of grackles departs from the feeders in an audible rush of flashing wings. They halt their flight in a nearby treetop, perching like dark buds, and as I walk down the driveway their squeaky-gate calls fill the crisp air. They are raucous and discordant, and it makes me smile. They’re so dang noisy!

Listening to them reminds me that I have a bit of a conundrum. You see, I’ve been working hard to get back into a daily habit of walking, but one way I’ve encouraged myself to do that recently, is by bribing myself with listening time on my audiobook. In the past, I’ve always frowned on this practice, feeling like it undermines the whole point of getting outside, and being in the moment. But since the weather has been less than lovely here, and I’ve been unmotivated, a bribe has been necessary to get my butt out the door and moving. It’s been pretty effective.

Hearing the grackles reminds me that I have no doubt been missing a lot when I walk with an audiobook pouring its story into my ears. I’m definitely not hearing much, other than the narrators, and it strikes me that I’m probably noticing less as well. My mind is turned inward to a story vision, not outward to the world around me. I don’t like that inattentiveness, even if it does aid in the cause of exercise.

Suitably berated by the grackles, I walk down the driveway, listening to the steady beat of my boots. I hear how the tone changes when I hit the concrete at the street. In the distance I hear crows calling and the squawk of a bluejay. Maybe I’ll wait a little before turning on my book, I think, holding my phone loosely in my hand.

As I walk, I listen attentively to what’s around me. I can feel my other senses kick up a notch, too. It’s just beginning to snow. I feel the sting-kiss of the snowflakes hitting my cheeks, and hear the slight brushing sound they make as they land on my coat. I feel the vibration of my steps rising through my legs. Someone has their wood stove going, and its smoke scents the air. I scan the fields and watch a large bird take off from a distant hummock. Was that an eagle? I hear intermittent bird calls–red bellied woodpecker, chickadees, and some other unknowns.

Suddenly, I hear a different call. “Conk-la-ree! Conk-la-ree!”Wait, wait! I know that sound! It takes a beat for my brain to catch up, but then the puzzle pieces slot swiftly into place. Oh! It’s red-winged blackbirds! I keep walking, listening to their back-and-forth calls, and mentally mark another tally in the “Signs that Spring is coming!” column.

Then, I’m not sure if I hear something or see something, but some sense makes me turn away from the open fields on the left and toward a house on the right side of the street. There, standing together and watching me are five deer. I stop abruptly.

We stare at each other for a long moment, until suddenly, as a group, they turn and bolt into the adjacent woods in high lunging leaps, white tail flags flying. I listen to the crunch and crackle of their passage through the undergrowth until it fades away.

I can’t say I wouldn’t have noticed the deer if I’d been listening to my book, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard the blackbirds. I definitely wouldn’t have noticed much else of what was going on around me. The message is pretty clear. It’s time to enjoy what’s out here, not what’s in my book. I slip my phone into my pocket. The audiobook can wait.

Then I set off walking again. Who knows what awaits!?