Ordinary Splendor

1.

I saw a video on Twitter of a polar bear swimming for nine days straight gliding
his translucent body through the dark blue sea; gliding his fur through cold
and ice ice and cold, and the icy cold dark of the ice, of the deep of the cold;
gliding his paws through the shimmer and the shale; the icy and the pale, the
smooth crust of the water’s frost. Imagine him skimming through the first day,
the ordinary splendor of the ice, then the second and third, the crisp air, the ice
rocks at the hairline of the sea and at his or her hairline, who is he? oh glittered
one of ice and blue, the icy-blue, and I think, nine days is a long time not to
stop. Nine days is a long time to stop; nine days is a long time for anything to
survive. There, in what I assume is the arctic, he is free to meander, to swim, to
glide his body as he wishes, as a force of nature, for isn’t that what we all are?


2.

Isn’t that what we all are if we want to be: a force of nature? A sort of splendor
to ourselves. There is so much to love, so much to dote over and what is
ordinary to one is not ordinary to another. It’s the splendor that carries us from
one day to the next. When I first heard about Flaco the Owl,  I felt my body
warm at the thought of him. Would I see him on one of my walks? My heart
beat for him, a silent pattering under the day. I loved knowing about his
adventurous spirit, this beloved urban owl flying around my city. And now, to
hear about his death is an ache, an empty, a heartbreak, but that’s the city-life
sometimes. New York is a city of hits and misses, but an owl knows both; an
owl owls his way around the trees and the stars, the people and the dogs, the
whirl of the buses, the cars, and the night. It is an act of love to love this city; it
is an act of love to love anything good, and anything good enough. How can
one love a bird? It’s a funny question, through the fault of your own looking
and here I am open-eyed. That’s what this life is for. I remember in October,
walking down Columbus and a man was dressed as Flaco for Halloween and I
smiled and laughed, tugging on my boyfriend’s sleeve – he’s Flaco. he’s Flaco, I
exclaimed, but the truth is: all of us are. We all want to be loved. We all want to
be free. We all want to explore the splendor.