Arlington

by Clare Brauer-Rieke

At a Wailin' Jennys concert a couple of weeks ago, I heard a beautiful song called Arlington. As I know is the experience of many, I listen to words in music in a way I do not or cannot when they are spoken. On this evening, the words of this song communicated to me something I hadn't realized I had lost. I have forgotten how to "not know."

Where do you go, little bird

When it snows, when it snows

When the world turns to sleep

Do you know, do you know

Is there something in the wind

Breathes a chill in your heart, life in your wings

Does it whisper 'start again'

In this modern era, it can feel like there is so little we don't know about the Earth and its workings. The lyricist could have easily Googled "bird migration" or "wind formation," and found the technical answers to her questions within minutes; but I heard expressed in this song a resistance against this "objective knowing." The lyricist instead seems to suggest that we should ask our questions differently. We might instead ask as a way of reconnecting with a lost mysticism, a lost spiritual inquiry, and a lost world of mystery.

Where is your home, restless wind

Is it there, is it here

Do you search for a place to belong

Search in vain, search in fear

Or is your spirit everywhere

Is your voice every tree

Your soul of the air

If there's no home, is there no death

In this way of asking, we learn it isn't about the answers. It is about the questioning, the engagement, the wonder. As Earth Day approaches, let your celebration be one of the mystery and spirit of the Earth as much as all our access to knowing the Earth in facts and figures. In the quiet in-between space, allow for creative questioning and imaginative interpretation. Maybe what you discover will surprise you.