Simple Delight

For the first time yesterday, I had the simple delight of being able to observe a mockingbird singing from a treetop.  Now, that may not seem very delightful to some, but for me I thought it was a special little pleasure.  It was only about 2 years ago that I didn't even know mockingbirds were in our area.  My brother, Tim, and I had gotten on the topic while driving to our niece's wedding in Vermont, when he told me they were.  I had heard from others they were but I had never seen one much less heard one.  I did a little research to find out what they look like and what to listen for.  Not long after that I was walking on St. Charles Street and passed right under one that was perched on a wire, giving me a good up-close look in person of the little darling.  A while after that, last spring if I recall correctly, when I was still in my apartment on Oak Street, I was in the kitchen doing whatever when I heard the sound of several successive different bird calls.  Knowing this was the distinctive characteristic of the mockingbird, I grabbed my binoculars but could not see it.  I wanted to see it actually singing.

Yesterday morning, I went out to the backyard to water my tomatoes and basil (my meager "garden" for the first summer in my house...I can't wait to expand to a full garden next year!).  I heard birdsong and waited to make sure it was not different bird sounds coming from different directions.  Much to my fortune the sounds were all coming from the same direction, in the same volume, with the same tone.  I looked in the direction I thought they were coming from and right at the very top of the tall cedar tree behind my neighbor's garage just to the south of me perched the yappy little guy, singing his little heart out.

I think what most appeals to me about the mockingbird is its lingual dexterity.  He is the avian equivalent of a polyglot, a particular interest of mine since I love languages.  I consider it a little sign that this house is where I am supposed to be.  Why else would there be little feathered linguist to welcome me?  :)

Well, just when I thought yesterday's pleasure in seeing him sing was one to top, don't I get a close up of a parent and fledgling in my very own back yard.  Earlier the parent bird was atop the cedar singing like he owned it, as appears to be his morning custom.  Instead of just perching and singing like yesterday morning, he would sing then jump down into the branches just below the top and I couldn't figure out what he was doing (well, it's more likely it was the momma bird and not the father).  I got a great look at him singing with the binoculars that time.  A bit later, I went down to the kitchen and while coming through the dining room I thought I would grab the binoculars again to see if he was on top of his tree.  As I was picking them up, I noticed two birds on one of the sawhorses the contractor has in my backyard.  I put the binoculars to my face and adjusted them, and what surprise awaited me but the parent and a fledgling perched on the saw horse.  The parent must have been trying to get the fledgling to make the plunge for the first time, which apparently had been quite successful.  Intermittently, the parent would leave the sawhorse and return.  I could tell by the reaction of the fledgling the parent was coming back to the sawhorse by its reaction.  Each time it would lean down and slightly forward, open its beak wide and vigorously flap its little wings.  It seemed like it was excited the parent was bringing it food.  It made me laugh to watch them.  Still smiling from it. :)

Sad News

This evening I received the following email:


"Dear Friends,

It is with great sadness and tenderness that we have the difficult task of announcing the death of our dear mother, Ina Polak, yesterday evening at White Plains Hospital in  New York. She passed very peacefully after a brief illness. It is a shock for all of us, but know that Jack is ok and has received the news as well as possible. The funeral will be tomorrow Friday  May 16 at 11:30 pm at Sharrei Tikvah Synagogue at 46 Fox Meadow Road, Scarsdale NY  914-472-2013.

and she will be buried after the service at Mt Hope Cemetary on Saw Mill River Road in Hastings On Hudson. Donations may be made to The Anne Frank Center USA  44 Park Place New York, NY. I will be checking her emails tonight and in the coming day and will try to return each of your emails individually but be patient with me.

With love,

Margrit, Tony and Fred Polak

Polak, Catharina (Ina) Soep, 91, of Eastchester,  New York, passed away peacefully on May 14, 2014.

Devoted wife of Jack for 68 years, loving mother of Fred (Carrie), Tony (Amy), and Margrit (Harvey), grandmother to Josh (Sarah), Ann (Jordan), Jamie (Abbie), Emily and Sofi, great grandmother of seven. Born in Amsterdam, The Netherlands on January 3, 1923 to Abraham and Toni, Holocaust survivor of transit camp Westerbork, where she met her beloved husband Jack, and concentration camp Bergen Belsen. Their love story is memorialized in the book and award winning documentary Steal a Pencil For Me. Avid  New York Times reader, theatre and movie goer, Ina led a vibrant and fullfilling life til the end. She will be remembered for her extraordinary beauty and her loving spirit. She called her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren 'her best revenge against The Holocaust'  Services today at Congregation Shaari Tikvah in Scarsdale at 11:30 Am. Donations should be made to Anne Frank Center USA."

The woman above, Ina (Soep) Polak, touched my life in a lovely and unexpected way.  On 12/9/08, I received an unexpected email from her because she had read a poem I had written based on a documentary about her and her husband and posted on this blog some time before that. You can find it by looking under November 2008 and more about it under December 2008.  The documentary is called "Steal a Pencil for Me" and my poem is called "Ina and Jaap"  She was made aware of my poem's existence by the woman who had directed the documentary about the love story between her (Ina) and her husband, Jaap "Jack" Polak.  I found the documentary touching and it inspired me to write the poem.  

I suppose the best way that I can remember her is to promote their story and the inspiration it gave me.