Surviving the Seasonal Harmony

The month between Thanksgiving and Christmas has two special meanings in this country. It is first and foremost, a season of harmony, a time of getting along, setting aside difference, and sharing in mutual joy and common celebration. And, of course, it is also a time when the cheer that is brought out annually late every November with the lights and decorations begins to taste less and less savory, as it served up in well-worn jingling carols like auditory leftovers; by late December, you can hear people muttering about surviving the season.

I suppose, in some ways, it's a dry run for winter, whose real chill is still before us and which will be met with excitement that soon gives way to exhaustion.

But it is also its own event.

I looked out the window this morning where just before hunting season, I saw half a dozen deer nibbling the last leaves of autumn. Today, there was only one, and he was moving at a right good clip, so that it was hard to squeeze off a shot before he ducked behind a tree.

It is not clear to me if he were moving quickly because the last month has told him that that is how one survives hunting season, or simply as a foraging tactic because instinct tells him that rapid grazing is a better strategy for surviving the cold days before us.

Either way, he prompted me to reflect on surviving the season.

And those reflections were soon joined to another reminder about the value of harmony in this time, and how it helps us all to survive.

I heard the thumping sound of an animal landing on furniture, followed immediately by the recognizable hiss of Remedios when she becomes a cobra cornered by Shiva.

Undetected by anyone (neither myself nor Remedios, slumbering happy in her hibernation box), Shiva had entered the room like a mist. He likes to sneak up on her while she sleeps and sit beneath the dresser looking up at where she lies. Usually I detect this and go over and gently dissuade him from leaping up and scaring her to death. But today, I never noticed. And the next thing I knew . . .

. . . the eagle had landed right next to her. And she did not wake up happy.

As they froze in their standoff positions, Remedios hissing defiantly, I walked over to try and encourage detente. Gently petting each simultaneously got Remedios to silence her vocalizations and Shiva to begin to purr. After a minute or two, when I thought I might record this proximity for posterity, I went for my camera.

Shiva, having made his point that perhaps a peaceable interaction was possible, descended just as I snapped the photo.

Maybe, just maybe, in this season of harmony as we learn to survive, we will give peace a chance.