I love reading Mary Oliver’s poetry because it gives me a clear sense of her deep and pure connection to nature. In her poetry, Oliver has a way of translating the majesty of the natural world in simple detail that encapsulates profound moments of beauty and wonder.
I read a poem every morning. For the past several months I have been making my way through a compilation of one of her books of poetry. Though I read other poets sometimes, I always come back to Mary Oliver.
Every day, before I head out on a walk I read a poem and then sit quietly for a few moments letting Oliver’s words ripple through my bloodstream. What I love about Oliver’s poetry is that her words are simultaneously elusive and accessible. I usually have to read the poem twice, the first time is just a warm up. The second time I start to understand and often have an “ah-ha” or “wow” moment. I regularly stop and read a line two or three times (often aloud) because it is so perfectly descriptive.
Oliver has a way of conveying her personal reverence for the natural world and, at the same time, inviting the reader to be open and welcoming to the limitations and constrictions we face as mere humans.
Grass, flowers, birds, fish, snakes, bears, deer, berries, the sun, the sky, the moon, shells, sand, soil and dust are all potential protagonists in Mary Oliver poems. After reading her poetry so deliberately for several years now, I find that my lens on the natural environment around me has changed.
On my morning walks, I often feel like I’m seeing something for the first time, though I know it was likely there yesterday. A log shaped like a baby bear in the shallows of the lake will suddenly appear with the sun shining behind it like a spotlight. One day many years ago, I saw the heron’s secret fishing area and now I always know where to look. I see herons all the time. A few years back I saw what I thought was a tiny duck but then realized was the rounded head of a beaver. Now I see beavers all the time.
Last week I noticed a group of common Mergansers speed racing across the lake. Mergansers are sometimes called goosanders or sea ducks. The variety I am referring to is unique because the female is actually more fancy than the male. The male has a head very much like a Mallard but the female has a bright auburn feather mohawk and a fire-red beak.
For whatever reason, on this particular morning, my eyes landed on a female Merganser racing away from the rest of her dopping, with a tiny fish in her mouth. She was moving so fast across the lake you could see her tiny orange webbed feet splashing beneath her.
The rest of her crew was chasing her and her little mohawked head was bobbling side to side, the fish flapping back and forth in her snapped-shut beak. It called to mind a group of stir-crazy third graders finally released for recess on the school yard playing keep-away.
I stood and watched the Mergansers play for a several minutes. How was it, I thought to myself, that I’ve never noticed this hilarity before. The more I watched, the more I saw. I could see the fishless Mergansers, skimming their beaks and dunking their heads looking for their own breakfast. Each time one lucky lady found a fish, she ran-fluttered away and the rest of the group ferociously followed.
I had so many questions. Was there a dominant female Merganser who was expected to feed her brood? How many fish would the dopping need to satisfy everyone? Or was it each Merganser for themselves? Though I could have watched them for another hour, I had to head home and get ready for work.
When I got home my partner asked me, as she often does, “How was your walk? What did you see?” That morning I told her about the Mergansers. I described the funny little water fowls’ behavior and speculated about what it might mean. It made me laugh again just recalling the Merganser spectacle.
Now I see the Mergansers every day. They are always there,doing their little water shuffle with their adorable mohawk-adorned heads. Though these delightful birds have always been there, they’re still new to me.
What I’ve learned from Mary Oliver is that I, as a mere human, am a teeny, tiny part of this great big world. Oliver’s constant invitation to me as her reader is to notice everything, to put myself into the background and let the natural world around me become the star of the show.
For me, this practice of deep noticing has given me an eternally changing lens. I see something new and wonderful everyday and there is beauty and wonder everywhere I go.
love this! and now I'm looking for the Mergansers...