These cool summer mornings must be considered great. Or better yet, heavenly.
There’s a cardinal on the feeder, I can only see the bottom of his reddish tail, bobbing up and down as he eats.
House wrens chatter in the distance. And the blue jay delivers his submarine chortle from off in the woods.
The goldfinch is fearless, but prudent. He doesn’t waste time, just nibbles and leaves, close enough that I can see his dainty orange beak.
Raccoon tracks on the deck. He’s been in the ashes of the grill, looking for grease.
Suddenly a plan for the day takes shape:
—fill the birdbath;
—water the compost pile with the same hose;
—admire the cup flower that’s finally blooming after months of clumsy growth.
Then, another cup of coffee.
Down in the yard, I come upon the remains of a robin. Hawks tend to swoop in from the south, nab their prey, and enjoy a meal in privacy on this very spot.
Now it’s the sharp “tisk, tisk” of the red squirrel, and a single nuthatch with his nasal “beep-beep.”
Four chickadees chuckle on the same branch. It’s a family! But I don’t think they’re getting along.
Finally chipmunk arrives. He slept late.
And now all the birds are singing at once! I've never heard anything quite like it...unless it was that morning we were camping in a county park near Northfield. I never found that park again.
You can’t really capture the joy of such a morning.
Just keep the windows open, stay away from the computer.
Keep the breeze moving through.