Spicebush Swallowtails in LoveThe past couple of mornings I've waken up to the repeated high pitched call of a single large bird. That's an assumption of course because I cannot see the bird but can indeed hear its single, shrill, loud, sharp ear-splitting call over and over and over for about 30 minutes. Two mornings in a row in the pre-dawn gloom, the only light in the room filtering in gray and flat through the blinds, and this single-minded vocalization reverberating through the skies.
So I lie there and listen until the song is finished. Afterwards, I rise as the other birds begin nervous twitterings.
Yesterday, I watched two nuthatches clamber up and down a tree in my front yard.
There are dirt fairy circles in the yard. Perfect circles made in the dry earth by some creature, about the size of a frisbee. I've no explanation.
The cardinals are feeding in the backyard. Squirrels are gathering nuts.
One early evening I saw bats flying. I adore bats. Lord knows we've enough mosquitoes to keep them happy.
There are entirely too many chipmunks here. They dig up my flower pots and scurry across the patio driving Baylee wild.
I've seen butterflies galore. The spicebush swallowtails above, a red spotted purple, hackberry emperors and scads of sulphers looking for all the world like pats of butter.
Soon, I'll begin fitting the backyard with bird-attracting feeders and a birdbath. Wouldn't a fire pit be fun to have on the patio? Time to embrace this place as we'll be here for a while. It's not a bad place it's just not my place, but for the time being it is the perfect place for us to heal and be. Nature is all around me, even in the city limits. I must be still and open my eyes and heart.
Finding ones bliss by accepting things as they are, then "bloom where (one) is planted," seems key to happiness. Enjoy the transition of the seasons.
