Home Depot

On clear mornings, before the heat has risen and the tasks of the day have crowded in, I like to sit on the deck and read my Bible.  It's the best way I know to start the day.  When I first go out, the yard is silent, then, little by little, the wild things pick up their normal activity, and the sounds of life return.

Lately I've had company. Here's the pattern; from the nearby hickory tree I hear the wingbeats of a bird going to and from the feeder.  I hold my breath as the sound comes closer and a tufted titmouse swoops into sight.  It flies to the table in front of me, then flits from chair to chair, cocking its head and studying me to be sure I'm not a threat.  That satisfied, the little titmouse is in the air again, and I feel its wings brush my hair.  After several false starts, it gathers courage, and sits down on my head.  Once there, there's a lot of hair arranging before little beautician flies away. 

These birds usually build nests in tree cavities; if I didn't know that, I'd think they were starting one on my head.  More likely, they're just looking for nesting material, like a local version of Home Depot, and I'm happy to fill that need, as long as they don't get carried away.

When we were kids, Mom drew heavily from a collection of adages to teach us lessons.  I'm reminded of her often repeated one about worries:

You can't keep a bird from flying over your head, 

but you can keep it from making a nest in your hair.

Don sneaked these pictures the other day from the house, and I didn't even know I was married to a paparazzi.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Camera Critters

Home Alone

Click on any photo for a larger view.

It was hot out yesterday, with the air still and humid.  Not far from the house, at the base of an old oak tree, a sleeping fawn was curled into a tight ball. Don had discovered it before light, and where it lay, we could see it from the garage window.  It was a tiny one, the first we'd seen this year.

I watched the little creature as the sun rose in the sky 

and the shadows moved across the grass.

Its white spots moved up and down with the rhythm of its breathing.

Mid morning, it woke and sniffed its surroundings

before laying back down.

Barley is one of the gentlest souls around, 

and he was was curious enough to take a sniff...

but as soon as the little one raised its head, Barley backed away.  

The fawn woke again in the afternoon, stretched its legs,

then folded them up like an card table and returned to its nap.

We've often heard that it's not wise to intervene on behalf of a lone fawn, as the mothers normally leave them in a safe place and go about their business, but now its easier to see why people do that.  As far as we could tell, this little fawn was left alone just about ten hours, and we were wondering how it could stay hydrated on such a hot day.  Apparently their moisture requirements are much different than ours.

Finally, late in the afternoon, the mama doe came back.  

The thirsty little fawn drank its fill, then followed its mama into the woods. 

We love happy endings.

In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.

Job 12:10






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and Weekly Top Shot

Pecking Order

Hungry goldfinches around here bide their time

while greedy squirrels monopolize the bird feeder.

One intrepid bird got tired of waiting...

and flew in the face of Red's wrath.

Apparently, the black oil sunflower seeds are worth the wait,

because he was soon back

waiting on another squirrel.

When you're low on the pecking order,

it pays to be patient.






Linking with Camera Critters
and Wild Bird Wednesday

We Have Liftoff

Our front porch is quiet this morning after a flurry of activity the past few days. 

 Six small Carolina wrens left the shelter of their nest in the creel 

that hangs from a stone pillar.

Two of them left at dusk Monday evening, 

their dark frames silhouetted against the sky 

as they looked out from their perch on the top of the basket, 

and then from the roof.

The next day, the third fledgling appeared, timidly...

seemingly awed by the new world around him...

and the perils it presented.  

"What if I fall?"

A sibling shored up his confidence...

while the parents kept close watch from nearby.

The last two fledglings made their getaway late in the morning, 

and even tried a little rock climbing before getting accustomed to their wings.

This afternoon, out of habit, I glanced out the front window before stepping outside, 

to be sure the coast was clear, but the front porch was strangely silent.  

In the basket, after the birds had left, one small egg remained.

There were seven eggs, 

and the original contents of six of them have now metamorphosized 

into six new minstrels flying in the forest, 

singing their song.

We're glad that the birds fledged on time for their introduction to 

Wild Bird Wednesday and Camera Critters,

and also on time to wish a Happy Birthday to my good friend, Pat.

Seeing Red

Gray squirrels have never been endangered at our place.  Far from it.  We look out the window in the morning to see six or ten of them in a row eating the corn we've thrown out for the deer and turkeys, and two or three hanging out on the deck, as well as a few under the bird feeders.  They are so abundant that we pay scant attention to them, except when they chew on the deck, or dig up our newly planted bedding plants, or trash the bird feeder.

A little over a week ago, we saw a red squirrel, the first we've seen here in about six years. They're larger than the grays, and somewhat slower, and Don says they're dumber, too.  In the old days, when Don used to hunt squirrels, he was in a tree stand when a red squirrel came up to him, put it's small front paw on Don's boot, and looked up at his face.  That was the last time Don hunted red squirrels.  Don says he didn't have the heart to hunt something that clueless, it didn't seem sporting, but I suspect that the little creature's trusting move got under one tough hunter's skin.  The other day when I was about to chase Red out of the bird feeder, Don said, "this one gets a free pass".  Wonders never cease.

A few days later, there were two of them.  Now I've seen three at one time (don't tell Don), and who knows if there are more?

While the red squirrel honeymoon is still upon us, we're enjoying their antics.  When I stepped outside yesterday, one of them ran a short distance up a tree, then turned around and started down.  Halfway down the tree, it paused with its paw in the air, like an inchworm, flailing to find where to take its next step.

We went to visit some friends today, just west of here, and we saw a couple of red squirrels standing by the side of the road, shouldering tiny backpacks, their thumbs out, and a little sign that said "Smiley's place".

They're pushing it.

Linking with Camera Critters
and Mandarin Orange Monday

Name Calling

Isn't it nice when someone knows your name?

Occasionally, when Don is entering his office, a friend will pull up,

 power down the car window, and call out his name.  

The other day, as he arrived at work, he heard a voice he didn't recognize calling, 

"Don, Don!".  It sounded like someone in distress.  

Don looked around the parking lot quickly, but didn't see anyone, 

until, glancing at a nearby fence he saw the source of the mystery. 

A mockingbird was perched there, calling his name.

Trying to be the helpful, friendly guy he always is, 

Don inquired, "Is there something I can do for you?  

The bird, apparently deciding there had been enough small talk, took wing. 

"Was it something I said?" Don asked, but the only reply was a distant call...

"Don! Don!"

Linking with

Wild Bird Wednesday

Camera Critters

Weekly Top Shot

Watching

At my desk this morning, a movement to the right attracted my attention.  On the window ledge, a chipmunk peered at me from the other side of the window, and seemed startled to see me.  They have been underground most of the winter, but they couldn't resist coming out on such a fine day as this.

Later, from the entrance to the chipmunk's den, a toad peeked out from under sleepy eyelids. Life is full of surprises.

About ten deer frequent our place (with additional visitors on occasion).  We watch them from our windows, and we almost feel like they're part of our extended family.

This buck has recently shed his antlers, and in so doing, left a little of his majesty laying on the forest floor.

This morning he scratches, beset by an unseen foe.

One of the yearling bucks, seen here with his mother, showed up with a damaged leg early last week.  He wouldn't put any weight on it at all, and we hoped it wasn't broken.  He stayed close to his mother, who fought off the other deer that tried to crowd in while he was eating.  As of yesterday, it looks like he's improving.

It's always hard to see an animal suffer, and as beautiful as it is here, there are frequent such reminders that this isn't paradise yet.  We watch for the day when the Lord Jesus will make everything new, where

There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,

for the old order of things has passed away.

Revelation 21:4

His invitation is extended to everyone:

To him who is thirsty,

I will give to drink from the spring of the water of life.

Revelation 21:6

In the meantime, we watch, and we're not the only ones.  Eagles leave here this time of year, and the other day, as we were eating lunch, a mature bald eagle soared in our direction on strong, swift wings, and sailed directly over the house, as if to say, "I've been watching you. I'll be back."

Linking with Rurality Blog Hop

and  Camera Critters

Red Belly

A small patch of red on their bellies give these woodpeckers their name, 

but you have to look hard to make it out.  

The best way to see it is to lay on your back in the grass, 

looking toward the sky, 

with some peanut butter on your nose.

Since I haven't tried this personally, let me know how this works for you.  : )

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

and Camera Critters

Birds and Berries

The air turned sharply colder yesterday, 

and birds came to the feeder in a steady stream.

A winterberry branch, propped above the feeder, provided a good perch.

Cardinals eat the berries, stripping away the shiny skin faster than you can blink. 

Titmice, and the other small birds, haven't tried the berries yet, to my knowledge...

they're more interested in the sunflower seeds below.

Blue jays put in an appearance,

 and, as is customary, there was a short squabble...

but this time the victor was worried.

"Did I make her mad?"

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

and Camera Critters

Lessons From a Hummingbird

We had an unexpected guest a couple of weeks ago. Don and I were downstairs in the afternoon when we heard one of Barley's rare barks, loud and deep, and we went running up the stairs, expecting to see someone at the door. No one was there, and we forgot about it until after dinner, when Don saw the cause of Barley's alarm.

A female hummingbird was buzzing methodically back and forth in front of the high windows, as if mowing some invisible lawn; she must have flown in earlier through the front door, unnoticed, and she looked exhausted.

We opened the sliding glass door and hot air rushed in, but the little bird didn't notice that freedom was only a few feet away. The problem was, she kept flying toward the light from the high windows, and she needed to come down to get through the door.

She came down briefly, twice, perching on my shoulder, tugging my heartstrings, but flew up again before we could help her. Finally, Don grabbed the closest broom, and I held it near her, bristles up.  She quickly latched on to one of the bristles with her tiny feet and hung on while I moved the broom down gingerly until it was in front of the open door. She didn't need to think twice, but zipped out the door and into the freedom of the wild blue.

I'm trying to take a lesson from my small feathered friend-- to wait and trust, and when I need help, to take what's offered. I also need to remember, when Barley barks, it means something.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him;

   do not fret...

Psalm 37:7

Linking with Imperfect Prose
and Camera Critters

Persistance Pays?

A sudden shower had come and gone, 

cooling the heat of the afternoon, when I stopped at the lake to view the sky.

To my delight, a red-tailed hawk soared in and landed on a nearby telephone pole.  

As I watched, it became apparent that not everyone was as pleased to see it as I was. 

 Out of nowhere, 

a mockingbird swooped down at the hawk and passed within inches with claws extended.

  It rested on the telephone wire for a moment before renewing its attack.

The hawk preened itself, studiously ignoring the little dive bomber...

...but the harassment continued. 

Just when it seemed the mockingbird would surely tire of its mission,

a light seemed to dawn in the hawk's brain.

"I could leave!"

And so it did.  The mockingbird was hot on its tail when it disappeared from sight.

Soon, the fearless mockingbird could return to claim the top of the pole as its very own.

Oops!

Nature abhors a vacuum.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday,
 Camera Critters
and My Sunday Best