Nature's Hunting Ground

 I read recently that those in their fifties have resorted to hobbies that at one time were attributed to older adults. That really hit home for me because a few years ago I started birdwatching. 

One day I was struggling with the decision on whether to throw out a loaf of bread that had been sitting in my kitchen for a few days. It had hardened a bit. I've always had trouble with the idea of throwing out bread, not sure why. My Dad's stories of going hungry when he was a child still sat with me. Being one of the youngest of 14 and born during the depression created that hardship for him. It was always hard for him to throw any food out. So, I took the loaf of old bread and decided to put it out on my deck instead. I broke it apart on a dish and placed it on the table outside. I wasn't even sure why I did this. Well, what transpired was an influx of so many birds curious to see what I had put out for them. I don't even know where they all came from. I never noticed them before. Granted we were surrounded by trees so they must've been there all along. 

I was so amazed and enchanted by all of the different birds that were visiting my meager bowl of Italian bread. I made it a habit of putting out any old bread that we collected instead of throwing it out. Eventually, I graduated to birdfeeders that I strategically put out in order to catch a glimpse of all the birds. 

I decided to purchase a reference book of birds from our state and I placed a camera and a set of binoculars by my window. That's where it all began. Every time a new bird approached, I would frantically look through my book of birds and place a marker on it so I could keep track of all the different birds that I saw and then I photographed them as they took their fill. 

Recently, we are mid spring and I've noticed that the population of birds that I'm used to seeing has greatly diminished. They aren't visiting our feeders as often as they used to. We would sometimes have to go for a bird seed run because I would go through seed so quickly. I think I've figured out why.

Our backyard has become a hunting ground. 

There is a Hawk's nest behind our neighbor's house, two houses down from us. It's been there for years, we'd see the little fledglings, as they would begin to fly. They are beautiful birds of prey. They would grow in our skies, above our yards, and then move on. They would leave the nest and then return to it year after year. This year, the fledglings have made the trees in the surrounding area their home, and they are using our backyard as their hunting ground. The necessary take down of one of our trees that had been hollowed out by birds and was in danger of collapse probably aided their view. We have become eyewitnesses to the carnage. Watching nature unfold right in front of our very eyes. The small birds have become fearful and they have either found other safer lodgings or they remain hidden from us. We hear them but we don't see them as much. 

So, I feel like I've been enabling their show of prowess. Needless to say, I've taken in all of my feeders for now so the birds won't feel the need to make the brave attempt at our feeders and fly into a trap. 

 I think most people don't take a moment to just stop and look around and appreciate the beautiful days that are gifted to them. I have made a point of doing just that. I make sure I look around and notice the day, the colors, the beauty, everything. It reminds me that there is goodness and beauty in this world even if they want me to forget. We are all hyper focused on the next big story to be outraged about, to be worried about. This outrage is always calculated, does it even come from within or is it placed there? Why are we always so outraged by the things that we can't control. Why have we forgotten what makes us who we are? Why have we allowed people who don't know us to become the same people who dictate how we feel about something, and how we react to it? Why are we afraid to speak up? Why are we afraid to show our true selves? Just a few thoughts that I've been having...now on to this beautiful day.

 As I sit here on my deck, I can't help but notice the birds singing their songs of appreciation, maybe they're singing about how they've finally been given a dry day, how their nests will finally dry up. It's quiet so all of their songs are amplified. They are singing in chorus, responding to each other in song, in all of their different dialects. I wonder if birds know all of the different languages that are had by birds. Do they understand each other? 

These last few weeks of rain are clearly visible on the leaves of the flowers, and vegetables in my garden. The leaves that should be green are now tinged with yellow either from too much rain or not enough sunlight. I have to admit that because of that same rain, we have an abundance of lettuce, spinach, and collard greens that have taken this time to just grow with gusto. Many of the spring blooms are now gone, driven to the ground by the rain, wind, and unseasonable cooler days and nights. Even the trees have dropped their access baggage of dead blooms that have given way to their leaves. The flowers and plants are all standing taller and looking towards the blue skies that have been hidden for way too long. The softness beneath my feet soaking in all of the sunlight and warmth in order to dry the access moisture from all the rain. Our grass hasn't looked better, it's thick and the most wonderful shade of green.