Narrated Essay: The Finch's Song
About this episode
The episode reflects on the themes of nature, loss, and the cycles of life through a personal narrative involving a child's experience with the death of a pet fish.
“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.” —D. H. Lawrence The sky is a flawless blue above the high mountain desert of Northern New Mexico. Though the air is thick with dust and pollen, transitional winds sharpen the senses and sweep away winter’s accumulations. White blossoms rise from the upturned branches of the apricot tree while the ground beneath them cracks with thirst. Strange, precarious, hopeful, persistent—spring is arriving like this. The footnote beneath every casual conversation about the weather is the acknowledgment that winter never truly came . There was no white hush of falling snow, no soft crunch of boots on morning trails. Instead, we drifted mildly between seasons. And now, as one season seems to step over the stalled breath of another, some disturbed, animal part of us still seems to be waiting for what should have been. Meanwhile, my son runs into the kitchen sobbing. He has found his black betta fish floating belly-up among artificial sea grass and smooth glass pebbles. He holds our hands and dares to look again at the body of the fish that drifts motionless with its long, obsidian streamers. He asks us unanswerable questions. Inside this clear bowl…
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