He stands on a wood fence near my back porch, fluffing his feathers and waving his head side to side. He struts back and forth keeping an eye on his Lady Love who watches his every move.
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We walk down a dusty road under a green tornado sky. After sharing family Sunday dinner of corn on the cob, fried chicken, deviled eggs, and sliced tomatoes, Grandpa asked me to take a walk with him.
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I feel the heart pull of Eros as I walk downhill to check on the baby Chickadees. I knock on the nesting box door to make sure Mama is out and open it gently. They’re gone! Can
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February was unusually warm and calm in the New York Finger Lakes, a quiet time for walks with friends on dry forest trails. The birds knew better than to sing love songs that early. I trusted them
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In late February, my son David who lives in North Carolina sent a text to his brother and me. “Did you see the sky?” he asked, including a cell phone photo of the evening sky taken in
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My dream visitor follows me as I walk up the trail with my dogs. I love the feel of him behind me. “What do you want to do today?” he asks. “I want to watch the sunset.”
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I watch the sun on the western horizon all year. Its setting spot barely moves near Solstices, but in February, the sun travels north over the oak and pine canopy in plain sight from my windows. Up
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Seasons in the New York Finger Lakes go from frigid cold in mid winter to blistering hot in summer, but each month brings gifts of beauty. I was
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Dear Bluebird Mama, Earlier this week, I saw you carrying dried grasses inside a nesting box while your mate flew from barn peak to birdhouse perch to crimson maple tree. I watched from inside through Vic’s astronomy
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Yesterday evening, after another wild thunderstorm, I look in the nesting box closest to my house and find 5 tiny white eggs nestled in feathers. The Tree Swallow Mama feathers her nest while she lays one egg
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