Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Birds At The Feeder In The Rain




Raining, soft patter, falling sweetly. Spring rain, the kind that has plenty of time to soak in and nourish all that grows. I cannot complain about that. It is a blessing.

The chickens have not yet come out of their hen house and Elvis is quiet but the wild birds are out and feeding. The redbud's shocking pink stands glory against gray sky.


How fortunate I am to live here, to have this back porch to sit on, to be able to observe the out, even as I am in. Porches are magical places of transition. 

The boys are coming over today. They slept in bunk beds last night. The same bunk beds their father and his brother slept in as children. Lily sent me a picture this morning.


Then she called to tell me about the near-death experience which had just happened. The boys slept fine all night in their new beds. Owen woke up early and must have woken up Gibson because all of a sudden, Lily heard Owen call out, "Mom! Some help here!" 
She ran into the bedroom to find Owen holding his brother by one leg, upside down on the ladder. I guess Gibson decided to explore his brother's bunk. By himself. 
Owen is such a good big brother. 
How any of our children survive is beyond me. 

Ah well. It is morning in Lloyd. I haven't had my smoothie yet and wish that instead of good yogurt and fruit I was going to eat eggs and bacon and fried potatoes. With all of my heart. Strange, isn't it, that the heart wants what is so bad for it sometimes?

Well, Elvis is finally crowing. I guess I better go free those beloved chickens of mine. 

Good morning. 

Love...Ms. Moon



14 comments:

  1. I remember the drama of the bunk bed years. Oy!

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  2. Ah the memories of bunks beds!
    It's still sort of cold here. It's warmed up to -20ish C. I could just sob, I'm so tired of winter, yet here it is spring at your house, so I have to be happy for you!
    The sun is shining though, so I'm grateful for that. And you. I'm grateful for you.

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  3. In Northwest Colorado we're still waiting for the mounds of dirty snow to recede, and the warming sun is doing its best to help. But this below-freezing morning, as I left for my early morning jog, I heard a chorus of birds gossiping happily in bare trees. The sound of those plucky sparrows lifted my heart and reassured me that spring will come. As did your post. Thank you.

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  4. Elizabeth- And yet, it must be done.

    heartinhand- And I am grateful for you.

    Aunt Beulah- You jog in that weather? Talk about plucky. But yes, birds can be so very hopeful can't they?

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  5. "Mom! Some help here?" It made me laugh.

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  6. Mr. Downtown- I know!

    Young At Heart- I am so very, very aware of that fact. Every second of my life.

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  7. When I was growing up I has two cousins that had bunk beds. They used to fight on the top bunk. Back then there were no guardrails. My other cousins and I would cheer them on until one of them fell off and started crying. This went on over and over and over again. It was part of the entertainment when we visited, which was pretty much everyday because we all lived within a few blocks of one another. I have no idea not only how they survived to adulthood but how their mother survived. She would give them a hug and a kiss and let them go at it again. She is the aunt I wrote about in my blog a couple weeks back that runs everywhere, even in the house.

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  8. I love the way Owen mimics the speech patterns he hears around him. He is such a good big brother.

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  9. It is remarkable that any of us grow up, really! LOL!

    I love that redbud. Wow.

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  10. Birdie- Oh my god. What a saint for a mother! I'm so glad she's your aunt.

    Denise- Life. And all of its mystery, danger and joy.

    Angella- He is the best big brother!

    Steve Reed- Think about the near-death experiences we've all had ourselves. Well, speaking for myself.
    Isn't that redbud a glory?

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  11. Man, drama with Gibson who is going through some adventuresome times. Glad that Owen held on to him and didn't let him fall.

    That redbud is glorious.

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