sialia artica and I

Sialia artica, the mountain bluebird, became the official state bird of Idaho in 1931.
My dad who had a fondness for pointing them out to me, was born in Idaho eight years earlier.
I have his eyes.
A large, clear blue set of orbs that can spot the small thrush species feeding on berries at 200 yards. Kind eyes that can see the good in most everyone and everything.

My gentle parents who loved to explore the outdoors often called me Bluebird; a sweet nickname to complement the formality of my given name, Cynthia.
Like the mountain bluebird, I was born in the American West with adventurous pioneer genetics, consistently displaying traits of an independent spirit.

My family was close and we spent quality time together whether it was week nights at the dinner table or on weekend sojourns. Learning was encouraged so the six of us took time to satisfy our innate curiosities. Weekends and vacations were endless explorations where we spent the days hiking, rock hounding, camping, hunting, bouldering, skiing, gold panning, swimming the clear rivers and high country lakes, and poking around ghost towns. In the evenings, we relived the adventures relating through stories, laughter, and at times....tears.

Moments and memories make up the stories of our lives. Stories build a foundation for future generations of story tellers. It is healthy to reflect, reminisce, and reconstruct stories. It is true, as it has been said that reflection is an art and a science that takes time. Time, a perishing commodity and one that lacks in most contemporary lives. Sieze the passing moments, take the time. And then, be like the colorfully plumed bluebird with a distinctive song...bringing beauty, meaning, and love to someones heart with a story of life.