I wish you all an indigo bunting. I hope someday, near a forest or meadow, an indigo bunting flies by and leaves you as astonished as I was last spring when, while hiking along a river in Western Maryland, one of these dazzling blue birds darted before me. The experience lasted seconds but remains a high point of the year. ‘Twas a gift.
Speaking of birds, it’s my wish this holiday season that Baltimoreans far and wide soon — like, next summer — experience the jubilation and community bonding that comes with having the Orioles on a path to the playoffs again.
I wish you all the delight of a perfectly baked croissant, as good as those from Bonjour on Falls Road, Patisserie Poupon on Baltimore Street or Croustille Cafe in Pikesville.
I wish each of you the great satisfaction that comes with being generous — with delivering a lasagna to a neighbor, with offering cash or loan to a friend who’s had a setback, with giving a ride to someone trying to walk home with too many bags of groceries.
I wish everyone the gift of encouragement, both giving and receiving, especially giving.
Against all dire predictions, I wish for frequent dustings of snow over heavy storms, no black ice, and soft rain over torrents.
I wish that all parents and grandparents remember that their children and grandchildren listen and emulate the behavior and attitudes of the adults around them. If we’re ever going to jettison the bad stuff — racism and all forms of prejudice, violence as a response to personal problems — there has to be a generational break, and that begins when more adults follow their better angels.
I wish you all a squadron of cedar waxwings. They are beautiful birds, green and gray and yellow, with crested heads and black “bandit eyes.” I’ve seen them flock into a holly tree in Baltimore. I’ve watched them dart from a sycamore by the Youghiogheny River and snatch emerging insects in midflight. Such wow-inducing, aerial acrobatics everyone should see.
I wish each of you a flattering and affirming moment, when someone you respect says something incredibly positive — and not about your appearance but about your work, your contributions to your company or community. Or maybe they congratulate you on having raised excellent children. Or perhaps all of the above.
Time out for a note about all this wishing: A college professor once told me that wishing was silly, even at Christmas, that you can’t wish away a difficult or bad situation. Of course, I agreed. Wishing that all the shooting in Baltimore will stop, for example, is foolish. And yet, the other day, Shantay Jackson, who runs the Office of Neighborhood Safety and Engagement for Mayor Brandon Scott, said the city’s anti-violence effort “is not ever going to be done until we see zero homicides, zero nonfatal shootings.” That’s not a realistic goal, but who’s going to knock her for stating it? Wishing is in the same vein, a way of expressing aspirations, the desire to achieve something, even if it seems unattainable.
Now, back to simpler, more attainable wishes.
I wish you all a year of excellent pizza, juicy oysters and superb Baltimore-brewed beer.
I wish you a quiet hike along the upper stretch of the Gunpowder River, among the hemlocks upstream of Gunpowder Road in the Hoffmanville area.
I hope you all get to do something in the coming year that you meant to do in the one that soon ends — write letters to distant friends and relatives, learn to speak Spanish, get to more concerts of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, go back to watching movies in movie theaters, spend a day in the Baltimore Museum of Art or the Enoch Pratt Free Library, rent a kayak at Loch Raven Reservoir, read two novels by Dan Fesperman.
I wish every man who shaves has the pleasure of shaving with shaving soap with shea butter. For those who’ve only used foams or gels, the switch to brush and soap can be life-changing, a way of adding a Zen moment to a busy week. (Recommended brands: Proraso, available at Trinacria Italian market on Paca Street, or SheaMoisture, for sale at pharmacies.)
I wish you all the power to press the mute button on your TV remote when a friend or relative is trying to have a conversation with you.
I wish you all a great blue heron. In mid-April, during the shad and herring run on Deer Creek in Harford County, find a spot along the river and watch a siege of herons as they watch for those migratory fish. You’ll be surprised how close you can get to them. I think most herons appreciate an audience.
I wish you all a civilized cup of excellent coffee — not in cardboard, but from a ceramic cup, with the coffee poured from a small, stainless pot. And, if you find such a place, sit there, at a table by a window, and think of happy moments past, slowly savoring each sip of coffee and memories.
I wish you all a year of good health, and I know that sounds trite, something the old folks used to say. But they said it for good reason. Everything pretty much starts with good health, the ability to walk or run, to be free of pain, to explore the world, to be out there where the indigo buntings fly.
