Captain's Phlog                          2020.06.06
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NOW: There is a 3 gallon (11 Liter) container of
yellow mustard on my table. I needed 'some
mustard' and purchased this for $4 US from a
company that deals in 'surplus' restaurant foods.
A shiny Mylar bladder the size and shape of a
couch pillow, it is the silliest thing I've seen
in a while... that doesn't have an orange face.


THE HERMIT THRUSH

It's 5AM and outside my window a Hermit Thrush is
singing to the dawn. Theodore Roosevelt described
the hermit thrush call as the sweetest sound in
the wilderness. The peoples of the Six Nations
tell us how the small drab bird came to have such
a other-worldly song. It is a cautionary tale on
the value of honesty. I will repeat a version [1]
of it here.

The Legend of the Hermit Thrush

Long, long ago the birds had no song. It was a
time when only humans had this melodious gift.
Each day, the people would sing a song of greeting
to the sun as it rose, and one of farewell as it
set.

The birds admired the songs and would often stop
their flight and listen to the beautiful voices.
In their hearts they wished they too could be
endowed with this gift. Then one day everything
was to change; the Creator decided to visit the
earth.

As the Creator walked through the forest, he
noticed there was a great silence. The Creator
knew something was missing. He was pondering the
silence when from over the hills he heard a song
from people in a village saluting the setting sun.
He heard the Indian drums and the scared chanting
of the sunset song. The song pleased the Creator.

The Creator saw that he was not alone listening to
the beautiful song. The birds were silently
listening to the villagers. The Creator
immediately realized what was missing. “The birds,
too, should have song,” said the Creator.

The next day, the Creator called the birds to a
great council. Birds came from great distances,
till soon the sky was filled with every variety.
The birds were so numerous their combined weight
bent the trees and bushes upon which they perched.
When the birds grew silent the Creator spoke.

He asked the birds if they would like to have the
gift of song. In one voice the birds answered the
Creator, chirping a resounding “yes!”

“Very well,” said the Creator, who then proceeded
to instruct the birds on how they would receive
their individual songs. The Creator told the birds
that the next morning as the sun rose they were to
fly up into the sky, flying as far as their wings
would carry them. When they could fly no further
they would find their song. The bird to attain the
highest flight would receive the most beautiful
song. When the Creator finished directing the
birds, he vanished.

Before the sun rose the next morning, the birds
were preparing for their flight. Birds blanketed
the earth, full of excitement. All were excited
except for one, the little brown thrush. The tiny
bird was perched next to the eagle. As the thrush
looked at the differences between himself and the
eagle, the thrush despaired, believing he would
have no chance to compete against so large a bird.

Suddenly, the thrush decided upon a plan. The
little thrush noted the eagle’s distracted
excitement and swiftly flew onto the eagle’s head
and buried himself under the eagle’s feathers. The
eagle did not notice the little thrush hidden in
his feathers. He was busy thinking that he would
win because of his great wings.

Following the Creator’s directions, the birds
began their flight as the sun rose. The flutter of
the collective wings roared across the sky. So
many birds were vying for the most beautiful song
that their presence in the sky eclipsed the sun.

Time passed and gradually the smaller, weaker
birds became tired. The little hummingbird was the
first to fall out of the race. The tiny bird beat
his little wings so fast that to this day if one
listens closely the humming of his wings creates a
constant refrain of “wait for me, wait for me” – a
very simple, plain song.

The next bird to stop his ascent was the cowbird,
a very fat bird. He, too, was awarded a very
simple song. One after another, the birds began to
weaken. As they began their decent, flying in an
easterly direction, they listened and learned
their individual song.

Finally, the sun began to set, and darkness
enveloped the earth. Only a few birds remained in
contention for the most beautiful song. The eagle,
hawk, owl, buzzard and loon, the stronger, larger
birds continued their upward climb. Throughout the
night, the birds rose higher and higher into the
sky.

When the sun rose, only one bird was left, the
eagle. As the day progressed, the eagle grew
weary. Believing he was the lone bird left he
began to triumphantly soar toward the earth.

The little thrush was still hiding in the eagle’s
feathers, having slept throughout the trip. As the
eagle began to dip back toward earth, the little
thrush awoke and hopped off the eagle’s head and
started his upward flight. The eagle saw the
thrush and realized what had happened but was too
exhausted to stop him.

The little thrush flew and flew until he came to a
hole in the sky. He was in a beautiful place, the
Land of Happy Spirits. Upon his entrance into this
world, he heard a beautiful song. He stayed in
this wondrous land until he had learned the song.
When he was certain he knew the song completely he
flew back to earth. As he began his descent, his
heart beat with anticipation, so eager was he to
show off his song.

But the thrush’s happiness was not to last. As he
approached the earth he saw before him all the
birds gathered around council rock. Seated upon
the rock was the eagle, glaring up at him.

A great silence came upon them as they waited for
the thrush to reach the ground. Now the little
thrush felt shame, not glory. He knew he had
cheated to receive the beautiful song, and he
began to fear eagle’s anger.

Instead of flying to the council rock to face
eagle and the other birds, little thrush flew into
the deep woods in shame and with a heavy heart hid
under the branches of the largest tree. His shame
was so great that he wished never to be seen.

The hermit thrush remains hidden in the tree to
this day, never leaving his self-imposed prison.
His shame is great, because he realizes he
cheated. But sometimes he cannot restrain himself
and he sings his beautiful song.

When this happens the other birds fall silent.
They know they cannot compete against the thrush’s
song from the Spirit World; a song that causes the
sun to shine upon the hearts of those entering the
dark forest.

-

Thus ends this tale.

If you have never heard this song for yourself,
alone, deep under the forest canopy, just at
sunrise or sunset, you owe it to yourself to make
it happen... while you still can [2].

[1] https://www.oneidaindiannation.com/the-legend-of-the-hermit-thrush/
[2] https://www.audubon.org/climate/survivalbydegrees