......the daily show

Yogis,
My eyes open and the sun is shining. A bright new day! Excited, I jump out of bed and head downstairs.  I can hear the birds so I know the show has begun and I don’t want to miss a moment.

Our house has a large great room comprised of an open kitchen, dining space and sitting area and the length is lined with a wall of windows looking out over the backyard. My gardens and the woods beyond create the view with nature as my everchanging artwork. There is always something to see out there, but this season is extra special.

A bird feeder sits in the middle of the grass and another hangs from a tree. A birdbath that was given to me by my neighbor Danny just before he passed away marks the middle of my medicine wheel. A couple of birdhouses adorn the deck posts and garage, and native plants are scattered about.  My attempt at creating a full-service resort for the wildlife that are kind enough to allow me to live here among them.

What is on the lineup for this morning?

The suspenseful drama this week is the return of the bluebirds. You may recall that last year they arrived as first-time guests.  Weeks were spent protecting their new home, building a nest and laying an egg before something (I believe a sparrow) went in and cracked the egg. Well, they are giving it another try…….selecting a different house this year. The sparrows, of course, think all the houses are theirs, even though they aren’t occupying them. Daily dive bombing, standing on top of a house all puffed up and squawking from both sides ensue. Each evening I am left hanging.

When I am in the mood for comedy I turn to the chipmunks. For years now they have lived inside the wall in our garage. To get out they chewed a small piece off the bottom of the garage door so they have easy access. They have begun venturing out this week. I see their small heads scoping the scene and then they dash across the yard to the wood pile and hide. There is nothing cuter than a chipmunk with its cheeks stuffed to capacity. Reminds me of when I was young and had round cheeks and my nickname at school was chipmunk (not quite as funny.)

Robins too can get me giggling. The way they hop, hop, hop…..stop……cock their head to listen and then boom. Down into the ground their beak goes. The worm never had a chance.

If chase scenes are your thing then you would love the squirrel show. The birds at the birdfeeder are messy. I watch as they push any seeds they personally don’t like out of the way and onto the ground much to the delight of the squirrels. If a squirrel who isn’t supposed to be there however swaggers in, watch out. Off they go. Zigzagging through the garden and up the tree with one in hot pursuit. Spirals up and down the tree. Out a limb. A giant leap into open air…….and barely grabbing the end of a branch with those small paws. Is it staged?

Finally there are those times when I need quiet. Peace. Tranquility. That would be the mourning dove episode. I think of them as the clean up crew. They never push. They wait their turn. And at day’s end they quietly and daintily eat whatever is left on the ground. Trusting there is enough for all. At dusk their song brings the world down a notch.

That’s just my backyard! I haven’t even touched on all the live streaming channels playing down at the river. Who needs tv?

Get still and watch nature for a half hour and notice what happens,
SARAH