Kirsten Mustain, Author

The Baltimore orioles have been at Dragonback for three weeks now, and they are still, as I write this fluttering brightly in the trees and feeding upon the halved oranges I have left for them.

I think this is an auspicious sign because orioles, in their totemic sense, symbolize sunshine and happiness.

Their mere presence brings much sunshine. The orange of their bellies and throats and the underside of their wings is amazingly brilliant, especially in contrast to the black of their heads and the tops of their wings.

According to my etymology dictionary, which does not trace words back far enough, their name is derived from the Indo-European word for gold, auso, which became aureole, meaning golden halo. One can then see that their name must also be related to aura and aurous etc.

They are like angels, then, in a way. Angels of color. Harbingers of warmer weather to come.

My mother has said to me that she doesn't think many people notice birds, and I agree with her. I don't know how many times people have told me that there are no birds around their homes, when birds are clearly everywhere. Or how many times I have pointed a bird out to someone who absolutely could not see it no matter how detailed my description of where it was and what it looked like.

And maybe it follows, then, that many people don't notice sunshine.

I remember once, when I lived in Santa Fe, stepping outside as evening began to fall to look at the sky because there was a spectacular rainbow that seemed to stretch from one end of town to another. It would have been amazing enough by itself, but its background was the Santa Fe sky, which is the most richly colored sky I have ever seen, and the Sangre de Cristo mountains, so named because they turn pink when the sun begins to wane.

It struck me, as I stood in the parking lot of the yoga studio where I was working and gazed at the rainbow, that many cars were driving by and people were walking everywhere and I was the only one who was looking at the sky.

Damn but it must be frustrating sometimes to be a God with a brilliantly creative mind and an unlimited palette and an obvious yen to bring joy and light to the world – to put on such an amazing display of color hewn from water and sunshine – and to have everyone pass it by without even lifting their eyes to notice.

It makes me wonder how many times I have been so absorbed by my own troubles that I have failed to notice the gift outright – to borrow a phrase from Frost.

It is not murder or adultery, but surely it must be a sin to ignore the manifest beauty that is inherent in this lovely plane.