Summer Solstice Hiatus

I'm not certain what happened but I fell out of the habit of my early morning blogging habit over the weekend. I'll blame the longest day.

The day was so long, when I woke up and saw the time 9:35 and full-on daylight outside, I was rattled. I not only slept through the night but I slept through the morning too!! What the heck?

P.S. the dusty night table and dirty clock have been tended.

It took a few minutes to realize it was 9:35 p.m. I had fallen into a deep REM sleep and awoke to utter confusion. The longest day snuck up on me.

When morning finally did arrive, it was a dreary, cloudy, rain warnings galore kind of day. Ahhh. A perfect snuggle up on the couch and waste the day away kind of day. I had few deep thoughts utter than deep appreciation for my new windows:

 

They work! They really work!! I gazed out my new, rain-proof windows and appreciated the secure, dry feeling while the lawn got a good watering. Ahhh. A dreary day is the perfect excuse to let the day slip through my fingers.

I finally awoke to this morning. The birds and furry critters of the neighborhood popped into my back yard to play.

This little squirrel frolicked by the trees, climbed the tree, played in the branches for a while, came back down to the ground and up again before he scampered off behind the garage.

He was joined by grackles (of course), a mourning dove or two and my friendly neighborhood robins. Ahhh. I love when Mother Nature's little wonders grab my attention. I lost yet another morning.

After some relatively productive days off, I lost a weekend. I made the mistake of tuning into the news yesterday afternoon and this morning. World events are sobering and I find it hard to make light of my safe, insulated little life this morning.

I am grateful for this specific moment in time. I dearly hope I can remain focused on my Disney Wonderland of furry and feathered critters outside my patio doors. The best television on earth. Just watching Mother Nature at play.

Setting Intentions

Today, my goal is simply to keep the TV turned off until suppertime. My intentions? I simply hope one act leads to the next, which leads to the next, and next and so on. 

I am showered up and clean after yesterday's battle against the weeds, grackles and nature in general. Today? I hope to sit on the back step with my second cup of coffee then move inside to see what battles I can wage within.

Nature is one tough cookie. I didn't even attempt to pick up pinecones. The wind keeps blowing them off the trees. If I was a rich person, I would hire someone who had a crane truck to pick all the pinecones off the forest which surrounds my home. 

I would collect the pinecones, mulch them into bits, then spread them around the perimeter of the house as a decorative mulch. I thought I read that pinecones repel insects and rodents. I'm all for that. They also help retain moisture and deter weeds. Hey, maybe I could spread my make believe pinecone mulch over the lawn like fertilizer. With all the above benefits, what could I lose?

I think I'm onto something here. Pinecone mulch. 

But for today? I hope for even a fraction of the forward momentum I had and held onto yesterday. If nothing else, I know what I'm cooking for supper - intentions have been set.

Ham & hashbrown casserole anyone?

War of the Birds

The quiet of my morning was interrupted by the sounds of a war being waged among the birds in the trees outside the kitchen window. The distress calls were fierce, multiplied by their neighboring relatives joining the scene to unite forces. There were grackles and robins flying in and out of the trees. My assumption was someone's nest was under attack. My next assumption was the grackles and robins were at war. I was wrong.

I happened to look at the ground and spotted a crow, surrounded by some grackles, just before it flew into the tree. The robins and grackles appeared to be uniting forces against the crow. It was quite a scene to behold.

This vantage point is from the closed kitchen window:

This is from outside, after the grackles and robins deterred the robin from the trees by the window, to the trees by the shed:

I watched the battle for as long as it took the small birds to chase the crow across the street and out of sight. I silently cheered as the sheer numbers and group effort of two different species of birds, who are not necessarily allies in the whole scheme of things, deterred their common enemy. 

Witnessing this unity against an enemy in common gave me hope for humankind. Further thought led to the outcome if there had been more crows. Would the distress calls been loud enough to call in enough troops to save the day?

Nature is not kind. The natural order of things result in outcomes that defy a Disney World ending. 

This morning, the crow verses grackles took place on the other side of the house. When I peered out the window, I spotted the crow walking on the neighbor's roof. The grackles were holding their own but the distress calls were different. I watched the grackles fly in and band together, strategically placed among the branches. There was a completely different vibe this morning. I didn't get the feeling a nest was under attack. Yet the grackles seemed determined to protect their territory even when the stakes were not as high. 

I quietly named the crow a name that rhymes with "Grump" and let my thoughts linger a moment. The state of the world feels very precarious. Will the distress calls be loud enough to call in enough troops to save the day?

Nature Calls

When a day begins with a mourning dove resting atop the roof outside one's bedroom window,

it feels like it is the beginning of a pretty good day.

Then when one takes a few steps outside their room and spots a deer in the yard,

one's hopes get a little higher.

 

I sat down to write my morning pages and spotted the robin I had hoped to capture yesterday morning:

I simply sat still and listened to the birds...

it sounded like a robin was in a tree right outside the window:

When I packed up my book of morning pages and turned to leave the room,

a robin was sitting on the rooftop right beside the window.

I greeted the day with a mourning dove outside my bedroom window,

my day officially began when I left my writing spot and a robin was outside that window.

With a side order of a deer in the yard and birds singing their songs.

Nature is calling this morning.

I am listening.

Flitting Thoughts

So many thoughts,

so little time to flesh them out.

It seems only appropriate I illustrate this rather wordless post with my feathered backyard friends:

A grackle swooped in for a close up ... look at his evil eye.

Oh, the stories I could concoct.

Meanwhile, look at these little lovebirds.

Ahhh ... I do love my mourning doves.

The robins didn't drop in for a close up. 

I waited. Honestly, I did.

Not today...

Rain

I fell asleep to the sound of (what I believe was) a nest of baby grackles in the tree outside my bedroom window. I woke up to the sound of rain. 

Rain. Music to my ears. I quietly wished for and envisioned a long, soaking rain on the wildfires. Please let the wind blow these rain clouds where they are needed the most.

I wrote my morning pages while looking out the window and listening to the rain. Next to the sound of a purring cat, there is nothing quite like listening to rain to lower one's feelings of angst. 

The rain slowed, then eventually stopped. Two birds hopped on the fence within my view. They simply sat there and enjoyed the view. They had the body language of mourning doves. 

In my limited experience, grackles swoop, dive and don't light in one spot for long. 

Robins walk around a lot. I love watching robins running around. They are always on the move. The robins who hang around here seem to spend a lot of time walking and their flights seem short. 

Mourning doves seem to spend a lot of time in one spot, watchful of what's around them but rather sedative in their movements compared to their counterparts who frequent my yard. 

One morning I was taking out the compost and the presence of two mourning doves just on the other side of the fence, a few feet from where I stood, captured my interest. Opening and shutting the lid of the compost didn't deter them. They stayed on their side of the fence, I stayed on mine. I'm sure they were aware of my presence but they lingered, even when I moved around a bit. I would have loved to have found a spiritual story to explain their presence but I decided it was more likely I was close to a nest and they were on guard for any danger.

This morning, a mourning dove caught my attention as it hung out near a puddle left by the rain. 

I watched it for a while (mourning doves can be pretty boring as they really don't do much) and eventually it flew onto the fence. I followed the movement and found a flurry of activity going on:

I don't profess to know a lot about birds, but it is my guess there could be another nest of mourning dove babies in the near future.

Just some quiet, morning thoughts to start the day. May you find a piece of serenity within your day today.

You Missed a Spot

We have a number of cool, dreary, wet days around here lately. I was happy for the reprieve from the demands of the sun but more appreciate of the bit of moisture we had. Not for the reason most people hope for rain, to nourish grass, plants and flowers, but to tamp down the dust-factor when I mow the lawn.

The lawn is so sparse, I am covered with a coat of dirt from head to toe, after mowing up a dust cloud that follows me and the lawnmower as I go. This dirt has to be hard on the lawn mower engine but it is the need for a shower after lawn mowing that is my motivation to find a way to limit the dust factor. 

The recent rain subsided a few days ago and I capitalized on the opportunity to mow before the wet ground turned to dust. Add the coolness of the day to the formula and it was a quick and easy mow. A half hour, from start to finish. That includes filling the gas tank and putting away the lawn mower. 

My kind of yard work. Short and sweet with minimal dust and sweat added to the mix. If it would have been nicer outside, I may have found an excuse to stay out and putter. But it was more about the "race" to me. How quickly could I be back inside and making supper? Lawn mowing barely put a dent in my after-work routine.

It looks like some sun and higher temperatures are in the forecast, just in time for the weekend. As much as I welcome the return of blue skies and sunshine, look at the first thing The Sun had to say to me this morning:

"You missed a spot!"

Nature's Alarm Clock (and snooze buttons)

Ever since I moved back into my bedroom, with its new window (and screen!), I have been sleeping with my window open. Oh, how I have missed the fresh air and sounds of nature.

Deep in the middle of one night, I thought I heard the sound of something wild howling off in the distance. It didn't sound like a domesticated dog. It sounded wild. It didn't last for long and it was in the middle of the night so I may have dreamed it. But we do have coyotes in our neck of the woods. It may have been coyotes.

As the morning progressed, the robins were out in full force. Man! They are vocal. If they were dogs, the neighbors would be complaining. But they are robins and they are simply singing their songs and the lines of communication are open. I love waking up to the robin's songs.

Next, came the mourning doves. Off in the distance, their mournful cries are beautiful yet sad when one compares them to the joyful robins. 

I stayed in bed a little longer and in chimed the grackles. Their name describes their voices. A rather grating sound. It signifies a very good time to get out of bed and start the day.

Nature's alarm clock: 

Robins sing, "Rise and shine!! The day awaits!!" 

The mourning doves coo, "I know it's hard. But do get up and face the day." 

Then the grackles come and say, "Get up and get out of bed. I'll keep grackling at you until you do!"

Rise and shine! The day awaits!!

It's a Beautiful Morning!

I am waking up to a five-day work week. And I'm okay with that. I'm really okay.

The weekend past, was a re-energizing two days. There was no real agenda other than puttering. Just do one thing and see where it goes. A lightly scheduled amount of being social. Just enough to motivate me to be prepared for company. Mostly, to prepare meals for my five-day work week, with a side benefit of having food ready to serve. Just in case.

If you make it, they will come. And they did. It was good. Very good.

This is my view, as I have my morning smoothie, blog a little and do my daily puzzles:

Yesterday morning, I was entertained by a couple of robins. A named them Momma and Poppa because they were doing a little frolicking which makes me believe baby robins will follow. This morning, a mourning dove caught my eye as it strolled through yard, rummaged through some debris and flew off with a twig. I imagine it is building a nest somewhere close by.

I took time to simply sit back, watch and create little stories for my feathered friends who share the yard. I forgot to look outside, watch and listen to nature last year. This year, I am grounded enough to see and appreciate what is in my own back yard. Again. I love this little spot in my world. I savored the moments. And it was good. Very good.

Exhaustion hit me in the middle of the day, so I grabbed a book, went upstairs to my Daybed Room, nestled into the cushions on the daybed. And read. My neck was comfortable. I was very comfortable. A little too comfortable. I nodded off to sleep for a bit. It felt good. Very good.

I woke up and thought a very foreign thought (for me). "I should vacuum". And I did. Late in the afternoon, for no other reason than "I should". So I did. It was good. Very good.

Every little thing I managed to accomplish felt satisfying. No deadlines looming. Simply doing something because it would feel good to have done it.

I saw people in such an easy and natural manner. "Want to go for a walk .. then come over for bbq hotdogs?" An easy yes. I reciprocated when I mentioned I had made a pasta salad and we could have an easy lunch here the next day. I made a little extra just in case my son dropped by. And he did! It was so easy to simply open the door and enjoy his company, knowing I had a meal ready to serve at any time.

My social battery is charging up. My motivation button is starting to function better. My ability to simply look up and watch nature unfolding before me is life affirming. 

I love this time of year. Everywhere I look, I see life and new life brewing. The buds on the trees, the grass greening up.

It's a beautiful morning!

After

I did it. I spent the day outside dealing with pinecones, leaves and just a general clean-up around here.

If one compares yesterday's pictures to the ones below, the undiscerning eye may not notice a vast difference: 

But this is the difference my eye is drawn to - the leaf/pinecone pile in the back alley:

Before

After 10 dumped loads of pinecones

That is all.

Waging the War of the Pinecones

Today's mission? Attack the pine cone infestation in the yard.

I wrote those words and immediately went back to my numbers game. How many dollars worth of points have I accumulated on my various rewards/credit cards that reward me for spending? $325.00 worth of "free spending" has amassed while I was busy spending. The leaf blower I have my eye on costs $338.00. 

I like the way life balances out, when I play the games I do with budgeting and spending.

Oh, number$ ... I have missed you so. I'll be back to play within the contents of my spreadsheets after I tend to the yard.

Back yard

Side yard

One HALF of the front yard

(Part of) the other half of the front yard

Driveway - by the street

More of the driveway. Yes, that is still a snow bank in the background.

This is a lot of yard for one who doesn't love nature.

I conquered the bookkeeping and taxes. I can defeat the pinecones.

Until the next wind blows the stockpile the trees are still holding onto.

In Lieu of a Cigarette...

Further to my post yesterday, when I thought I should take up smoking to force me to be still outside and simply take a nature break, I savored my second cup of coffee outside this morning.

It was already hot, so I found a shady spot and let my legs spill out into the sunlight. A robin was chirping and encouraging me to come out and play. It was a very convincing song. I enjoyed every note. 

I sat still. I listened. I watched the birds (mostly sparrows, I think) disappear into our lawn. I spotted a bird using the bird house. I wondered what it must be like to be a bird. I have lived a lifetime of living pay cheque to pay cheque. How different is it to be a bird who lives from meal to meal, with seasonal nesting requirements and keeping safe from danger EVERY day of the year? 

I scanned the blue sky to find a jet stream in the distance. Where had that plane been? Where was it going? Who was on board? Were they travelling for business? Pleasure? A family emergency? So many stories within that little speck in the sky.

I was grateful for our maintained lawn. Several weeks of a disabled lawnmower helped me appreciate the much dreaded task of tending to a lawn during the spring growing season. The lawn needs a fresh cut again, but the dandelions have been tamed and we have a lawnmower that will tend to the task. Oh, how fortunate we are!

Mom's wind chime was still. I gazed at it, remembering times when I felt that chime speak to me on a windless day. I willed it to speak to me this morning but it didn't have anything to say.

Thoughts of Mom and Dad, of those who no longer walk on this earth and recent conversations I have listened to that spoke to the fact of how one lives on after they stop breathing. Without getting all spiritual or whimsical, there is an undeniable truth to those words. I feel Mom's essence within me all the time. I speak and I hear her words come out of my mouth. I hear Dad's wisdom chime in when it comes to that which he taught me or conversations we had. I think of those who are alive and well, and the way they live within me when they are out of sight. Chance encounters with strangers that make a lasting impression. 

I was sitting outside by myself. But I was not alone. 

Breathing in the moment without distraction was the best gift we can give ourselves. Take some time to deeply inhale today. Exhale and do your best to let go of the toxins within. It can't hurt and maybe, just maybe it will help just a bit.

20 seconds of "Morning Bliss"

Aggressive Chirping

I stepped outside to take a picture of our April snowfall and was distracted by the sound of birds:

(ensure your volume is high, to appreciate the aggressive nature of their chirps)

It seems I'm not the only one who is impatiently waiting for warmer weather.

I wish I sounded so cheerful when I grumble about the weather.

Unseen Presence

I love spotting footprints in the snow.

Evidence of what has walked the path we are walking ...

An unseen presence of life all around us that we know is there but have not seen.

This weekend, in particular, those bird tracks, cat tracks and hoof prints feel like a nice warm hug.

Nature nurtures me. May you find serenity in the world outside your door.

When Words Fail ...

When all else fails, let nature do the talking.

Life distracted me today and I simply never got back to the post I started this morning.

As I settled in front of the TV, birds kept swooping past the patio doors beckoning me to take a step outside and simply marvel at the wonders of the world around me.

I didn't step outside but I did snap a few photos of my backyard entertainment. 

I can't wait for spring!!

Come Walk With Me

I slept in this morning and immediately ran through my options as to how to make up for my lost half hour.

I could skip my stretches. No. I will at least do one out of three sets. No. I did all three sets of stretches.

I could skip my walk. No. I will at least go for a quick walk.

I left the house with speed on my mind and I was almost oblivious to simply noticing the world around me. 

Until ... I thought I spotted a few rabbits from afar so I went out of my way to see what the two lumps of brownness were in the distance. As I neared the suspicious "rocks", I zoomed in my camera lens. With my bare eye, one of them looked like a tree stump until I saw the view through the camera.

I'm glad I snapped the photo when I did because these were a skittish pair and were ready to dart as soon as I made my way closer.

My mission was to at least do a quick walk-by of my new favorite nature watching spot. It rained last night so the birds appeared to be feasting on whatever bugs had to surface due to their flooded underground tunnels. There were eight pigeons (?) enjoying their breakfast meal.

I had tried to describe this man made water feature to my aunt yesterday and my words weren't enough for her to get a good picture in her mind as to what I was talking about. So I took this picture from the school playground. There are two schools sharing a very large school yard, each school has a large playground, tarmac and a large field to encompass all school related activities. What lies beyond the line of trees in the distance is a fenced off storm water retention pond which has attracted a few different varieties of birds which has caught my attention:

From the walking path, this is what you see:

As I circled around, to get a full view, this is the water feature from another angle. City surrounds it but it is just pretty (in my eyes):

There was only one pelican this morning. I don't know if I was too late and the other two flew off before I arrived or if they were simply in hiding. But I was glad I had one pelican spotting:

As I headed towards home, I turned back and took one final shot. The cloud cover in the sky was evolving throughout the series of pictures. I just found the sight peaceful.

I was on my last lap home when I saw a rabbit run across the street. One final rabbit sighting while home was in sight. 

Rabbits were the first and the last thing I saw on this morning's walk. A perfect little "sandwich" on a morning stroll I could have just as easily talked myself out of.

It was time to come home.

Air Show

When heading out for my walk this morning, I went directly towards the storm water oasis I have recently rediscovered. It did not disappoint.

Three pelicans were still swimming and I noticed one of them scooping up and swallowing something to eat while I was watching. 

The red winged blackbirds were the background accompaniment and continued to interact with at least one pelican when in a certain area of the pond. Are the pelicans swimming in their turf when these exchanges happen? The pelican nips at the bird in flight and they don't appear to be aggressive in their actions. But what do I really know? I'm just a quiet observer.

As I was circling the pond, looking for a better vantage point to watch the wildlife attracted to the water a large bird swooped high overhead. I was curious, as I believe it was the same unknown bird I spotted yesterday.

It flew off to a far away light post when I approached the pond but after some time passed, this same bird flew around and around the pond. I felt pretty fortunate and immediately wondered if this "bird of prey" (that was all this amateur birdwatcher could distinguish) was putting on a show just for me.

Wistful thoughts of Mom's comments on eagles and how she would love to soar like an eagle made me think of her and I wanted to believe her presence was close by. 

I desperately tried capturing the flight on video but nothing beats the naked eye to watch and marvel at a soaring bird.

My personal air show went on for quite some time and I was so glad I showed up to witness this special event that I was starting to believe was "just for me".

Then, the bird swooped into the pond and just as quickly flew off with a fish in its talons. It was heading north when I last spotted it. The air show wasn't for me. The hunting bird was gathering its breakfast meal.

The birds are watching me just as much as I'm watching them. This particular bird of prey perched atop a lamp post far away from where it was when I first spotted it. It is my guess that when it felt I wasn't a threat, that it came back to concentrate on its fishing expedition.

Ahhh. The moments I find when I'm close to home instill my personal belief that there is no place like home.

Breaking Patterns

Breaking a pattern can be as simple as changing ONE thing that sets you down a familiar path. This is sometimes exactly what one wants but is not always what is best.

I went for a walk bright and early this morning. I had a familiar, calming destination in mind. When I first set out, my thoughts were much of the same old, same old thoughts I've been recycling, reusing and ruminating on the past while. 

As I walked, I heard the pouty little voice inside my thoughts say, "There aren't any rabbits". A more hopeful side of that same voice reminded myself, "Maybe they are having their second batch of babies and the moms are in hiding". Then I tuned into my surroundings as I continued on my way and spotted one, then another rabbit. "There they are! You just have to keep walking and being mindful" the more level headed side of myself said.

I found myself at my favorite city watering hole (a man made storm water pond) which brings me back to earth and calmness envelopes me.

There were three pelicans swimming around. A duck flew in for a swim. Another large bird flew overhead (but didn't land) which reminded me of a Canada goose but it was some other bird. There were a red winged blackbirds singing their hearts out and interacting with one of the pelicans. 

                                         

I stood and marveled at the sight before me for at least fifteen minutes. Watching. Listening. Taking pictures and videos to capture the sights and sounds. It was heavenly. I thought of nothing but the moment I was in.

As I was leaving the area, I spotted a rabbit. Then a second one. The rabbits are still around. One just needs to be in a place where they like to hang out. 

As I made my way home, I reminded myself that sometimes what we are looking for is as close as our own backyard or neighborhood. If one can't find peace within themselves at home, it may be a futile effort to go seeking it elsewhere.

My thoughts were familiar yet brought back to life as I walked this morning. I came home feeling revived and refreshed.

Then what did I do? I settled right into my familiar routine. I made my breakfast smoothie, tuned into my favorite podcast, did my puzzles, signed into my work computer ... and the spell was broken. Poof! Back to real life. Back to the books.

Change ONE thing upon returning home. Grab a cup of coffee and sit in my own back yard. Grab something to write with and just let the thoughts flow out of my head and onto the page. Take time to pause before taking a dive into the deep end of life.

Work. Life. Responsibilities. They are unavoidable. I believe they are best managed if we take care of our soul a little first and foremost. 

Break ONE pattern. Allow yourself to immerse yourself in a moment. I highly recommend nature, even if only to stop and gaze out the window and see what appears if you watch long enough. The process may not work miracles but it just may reroute your thoughts into your inner wisdom, hopefulness and a renewed perspective before the realities of the day must be met.

Taking a Moment

June 30th comes with all kinds of deadlines in my bookkeeping world. 

All the more reason to take a step outside this house where I live with my work and listen to the birds:

My bird identifier app identified these bird calls as "Brown Thrasher" and "Black-headed Grosbeak". 

I gazed up into the trees and never did spot the birds who were singing so sweetly.

Thank you to my anonymous bird choir.

It was a most excellent way to start a busy day.

Take a moment to stop, listen and inhale deeply before you step into your day.

When you can't change what is going on within your world, 

remember you do have the power to impact a moment.

Best Alarm Clock in the World

I love waking up to the sound of the birds singing, chirping and the cooing. 

It has become part of a morning-in-my-life at my Little Oasis on the Prairie.

This past weekend, 

I woke up to the distinct chirps I have come to know and appreciate 

from the robins who seem to have made our yard home. 

This particular "chirp" felt like it was right beside me.

I was instantly awake, 

opened the blind

 and found my own personal alarm clock perched right outside my window:

"The Best Alarm Clock in the World" 

What better way to wake up than hear your own personal robin greeting the day?