With the emergence of the XIX cicadas we are reminded that things buried for a long time can still grow and become a voice in the ecosystem. I will let you decide for yourselves whether you also love the sounds of the cicadas. What I call the sounds of summer. I look forward to the familiar hum of the Katydids.
The weather in May is amazing. All things seem possible. They are renewed and refreshed. Beauty is everywhere you look in all the shades of flowers. It is time to LIVE.
The first of the broods are fledging. The canopy is filled with begging calls. Male birds still give chase to other males. The Cardinal is the first song I catch each morning as Dawn greets me.
I want to be outside and savor every second of every day while the air is fresh. While the sky is blue. While thunder rolls. I want to cut the roses and water the tomatoes. I want to catch the toads.
I feel alive. Awake. Ready to grow with the turning of the spring towards summer.
This little black and white warbler flew into my studio window. Though I wouldn’t wish harm on the little bugger it was a dream to hold it for a few moments to confirm it was okay. I held it like this until I felt it relax a little. Then I just held it in my open hand. Its talons clinging to my fingers. I offered to set it down. It stayed with me calm as a cucumber while it caught its breath. I feel like I earned its trust. When it was ready Little Witsy flew up to the top of the bird feeder and then on to a nearby pine. Tomorrow when I hear its song I’ll know we’re friends and I think he’ll know me as a friendly neighbor. (Hopefully he will tell his friends!)