In Good Hands

One morning last week, just before dawn, we watched two yearling white-tailed deer play tag around the pond. They ran like the wind, their hooves scarcely touching the ground as they leaped in the air and splashed through the water. Once in a while, Bitsy (our name for the littlest female) would stop to catch her breath, but she'd sprint ahead as soon as Sundance (the youngest male) started to catch up. It was an expression of pure joy, and I could relate. I love spring.

A Carolina wren has taken up housekeeping in the creel on our front porch, just far enough from the phoebe's nest by the front door to avoid collisions. Now the wrens are busy bringing bugs back to their babies.

It's dark out this morning, and dogwood bracts on the coffee table appear to be floating in mid-air. Redbuds sparkle on the dining room table and wildflowers overflow small vases in the kitchen. Outside, one has to tiptoe to avoid stepping on a wildflower. 

These flora and fauna don't know that our country is in crisis. While everything around us is changing, a Rue Anemone pushes its way out of the earth and bobs in the breeze, right on schedule. It's a good reminder that their Maker and ours is still holding the world in His hands. We can sleep well. He is awake.

Waiting for Supper

We see bald eagles flying over the lake occasionally and their beauty always makes us catch our breath. This one was perched high in a tree overlooking the highway, her eyes trained on a roadkill armadillo, waiting for supper.

At Ease

Fawn on a Mission

We've been seeing this young fawn for about a month now. We've lived here a lot longer than it has, but it's a native, and now it owns the neighborhood, romping in the fields and sleeping in our neighbors' flower bed.

Fledge Day

It's quiet on the front porch this afternoon, and a little bit lonely, after the clamor of the morning. A pair of Carolina Wrens have been nesting in a creel that hangs from one of the porch pillars, and lately, they have been scrambling to keep their nestlings fed.

My first indication that this might be Fledge Day was an aerial scuffle over the patio. A Phoebe, who is also nesting on the porch, landed on the watering can, and the two smaller birds teamed up to chase it away. Up til now, the Phoebes had been getting the upper hand in those skirmishes, but on this day the Carolina Wrens wanted to clear the runways for take-offs and landings.

This morning both of the wrens were on the basket, peering down the opening, coaxing their nestlings to come out. The Carolina Wren has a beautiful voice, and it must be very persuasive because it wasn't long before the first brave adventurer popped out to greet the world. It looked around, wide-eyed. With its short, stubby tail and wispy tufts of new feathers topping its head and sticking out from the back of its neck, it looked a little bit like an alien. One sibling joined him, then another and then a third, before the first one tried out its wings. I held my breath. The fledgling fluttered unsteadily to the woodpile on one the end of the porch where the others joined him. Between crash landings, they practiced hops from log to log... 

hid in an old egg basket... 

and clung to the rock siding, all the while, emitting a constant chatter. But there were still chirps coming from the basket, and finally, a fifth tardy bird emerged. 

They left one by one within about 20 minutes, winging their way along the side of the house as if they'd been practicing for days. I went outside later and heard their chirps coming from under the dog house, and saw one of the parents swoop in with food. This vast world can be intimidating. 

We'll be keeping our ears and eyes open, and hoping they'll return for another nesting. Now, at least, the Phoebes can have their perch back.