Bill - I am so grateful that you found your voice and have decided to share it with us. As a once-inspiring writer, I admire your ability to paint beautiful pictures with your words.
Thank you, Shari. The thought of it traveling to your loved ones as a gift means more to me than I can say — that's exactly the life I'd hope for it. Slow down, immerse, listen, appreciate. You've named the whole spirit of the book.
Thank you for the gift of writing and sharing your journey. I look forward to your book. I shared your Substack with my grandson who is an avid birder, and is now passing along this family interest to his 4 yr old. The circle widens and grows stronger. 💕🦉
Thank you, Candace. Three generations of birders in one family — that's the most hopeful thing I've heard all week. A four-year-old learning to look up and pay attention has a real head start on the rest of us. The circle widening like that is exactly what I'd hope my words could do.
I look forward to your posts, they are a huge bright spot in what is too often grim news about the world these days.
Nature has always been a refuge for me and I feel so fortunate to share it with the younger generations. Keegan ( grandson) mentions your posts often. I appreciate your effort to help give all of us a sense of connection about something so essential to a good life. Sounds like your book will be an excellent Christmas present. Take care 🦉
Thank you, CJ. "Readying for liftoff" made me laugh — that's the fledgling exactly, all nerve and no idea what he's doing. I'll take it. Grateful to have you watching from the branch.
I love your writing , your observations, the way you SEE the smallest details. It’s teaching me too , slow down and look . Just look. What an extraordinary world opens up when I do that .
Thank you, Jenny. "Just look" — you've distilled it better than I did in the whole essay. And that's the secret, isn't it: the extraordinary world was there the entire time, waiting for us to slow down enough to notice. I love that you're finding your way into it.
It is such a remarkable privilege to watch the procession of chickadees and nuthatches and clueless woodpecker fledglings. And the perfect opportunity to reflect on life and time and family. Glad for your journey and our privilege of sharing a bit of it with you. And those marvelous photos.
Thank you, Jude. That you can relate is the whole reason I put the introverted part on the page instead of hiding it again — it turns out the quiet ones recognize each other.
kind of bittersweet that we introverts have deep things to share but this sometimes harsh world is not always conducive and safe for us. that's why your substack is so vital and powerful, for you and for your readers, bill. thank you for this opportunity to connect here today.
I don’t want you to rush it, but I can hardly wait to read your book! So, is this your gentle way of telling us that you may be gone from Substack for a while?
Anita, this made me smile — thank you. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. My posting interval may stretch a bit, or I may shift to something lighter for a while — a photo or a short note on how the book is coming every couple of weeks. But don't worry, I'm not disappearing. I'll still be here, just maybe in a different rhythm while the book takes shape.
I’m not usually one to comment, but this piece hit home. I’m taking a memoir writing course just now, and I know that feeling. I’m also learning to see and draw, and I so appreciate your views. We look forward, as always, to reading your lovely observations and thoughts here and in book form!
Thank you, Suzanne, I'm glad you broke your usual quiet to say so. The feeling you're describing, the exposure of putting yourself into the memoir, doesn't fully go away, but it does get easier to walk toward. Learning to see and draw at the same time is no accident, I think; they're the same muscle. I'm rooting for both your courses, and grateful you'll be along for the book.
Thank you, Lenore. "When you are ready" is a kindness. Most of writing has been learning to let things take the time they take. I'm grateful you'll be there to recieve it.
Bill - I am so grateful that you found your voice and have decided to share it with us. As a once-inspiring writer, I admire your ability to paint beautiful pictures with your words.
Thank you, Jenn. I am grateful for your support. I did not find my voice until my late forties. You never know when it will emerge.
Can’t wait to buy your book and also to gift it to loved ones. A reminder to slow down, to immerse, to listen and appreciate. 🦋
Thank you, Shari. The thought of it traveling to your loved ones as a gift means more to me than I can say — that's exactly the life I'd hope for it. Slow down, immerse, listen, appreciate. You've named the whole spirit of the book.
Thank you for the gift of writing and sharing your journey. I look forward to your book. I shared your Substack with my grandson who is an avid birder, and is now passing along this family interest to his 4 yr old. The circle widens and grows stronger. 💕🦉
Thank you, Candace. Three generations of birders in one family — that's the most hopeful thing I've heard all week. A four-year-old learning to look up and pay attention has a real head start on the rest of us. The circle widening like that is exactly what I'd hope my words could do.
I look forward to your posts, they are a huge bright spot in what is too often grim news about the world these days.
Nature has always been a refuge for me and I feel so fortunate to share it with the younger generations. Keegan ( grandson) mentions your posts often. I appreciate your effort to help give all of us a sense of connection about something so essential to a good life. Sounds like your book will be an excellent Christmas present. Take care 🦉
It's going to the light up the world for so many! The feelings you share are so settling. Upward Bill, you're readying for liftoff!!
Thank you, CJ. "Readying for liftoff" made me laugh — that's the fledgling exactly, all nerve and no idea what he's doing. I'll take it. Grateful to have you watching from the branch.
I love your writing , your observations, the way you SEE the smallest details. It’s teaching me too , slow down and look . Just look. What an extraordinary world opens up when I do that .
Thank you, Jenny. "Just look" — you've distilled it better than I did in the whole essay. And that's the secret, isn't it: the extraordinary world was there the entire time, waiting for us to slow down enough to notice. I love that you're finding your way into it.
Besides your lovely prose, will it also share many of your beautiful avian photographs?
Can’t wait!
Hi Gail, Yes it will be a mid sized hardcover with photographs. I will share more details in my next essay.
It is such a remarkable privilege to watch the procession of chickadees and nuthatches and clueless woodpecker fledglings. And the perfect opportunity to reflect on life and time and family. Glad for your journey and our privilege of sharing a bit of it with you. And those marvelous photos.
I am so excited for this book to be out in the world. And look at those chickadees ... those photos make me melt.
So looking forward to your book!
your book. lovely. and how you share about your introverted true self. i can relate. thank you, bill.
Thank you, Jude. That you can relate is the whole reason I put the introverted part on the page instead of hiding it again — it turns out the quiet ones recognize each other.
kind of bittersweet that we introverts have deep things to share but this sometimes harsh world is not always conducive and safe for us. that's why your substack is so vital and powerful, for you and for your readers, bill. thank you for this opportunity to connect here today.
I don’t want you to rush it, but I can hardly wait to read your book! So, is this your gentle way of telling us that you may be gone from Substack for a while?
Anita, this made me smile — thank you. Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. My posting interval may stretch a bit, or I may shift to something lighter for a while — a photo or a short note on how the book is coming every couple of weeks. But don't worry, I'm not disappearing. I'll still be here, just maybe in a different rhythm while the book takes shape.
Whew…withdrawal symptoms abated.
Thank you for trusting us
Thank you, Sandra. That trust was the hardest part, and the most worth it. You've made it feel safe to keep going.
I’m not usually one to comment, but this piece hit home. I’m taking a memoir writing course just now, and I know that feeling. I’m also learning to see and draw, and I so appreciate your views. We look forward, as always, to reading your lovely observations and thoughts here and in book form!
Thank you, Suzanne, I'm glad you broke your usual quiet to say so. The feeling you're describing, the exposure of putting yourself into the memoir, doesn't fully go away, but it does get easier to walk toward. Learning to see and draw at the same time is no accident, I think; they're the same muscle. I'm rooting for both your courses, and grateful you'll be along for the book.
Excellent news!
I feel privileged to be part of your journey; to witness how we become more whole. Thank you, Bill.
Blessings on you and your book! Eager to read, when you are ready!
Thank you, Lenore. "When you are ready" is a kindness. Most of writing has been learning to let things take the time they take. I'm grateful you'll be there to recieve it.