wildlife

I woke Saturday morning, made myself some tea, and went out on my deck to admire the baby fruits ripening on their vines in my container garden.  At least that's were they were yesterday... but they were GONE!  Cucumbers and tomatoes absconded, drooping leaves, broken stems.  So sad!

I initially suspected the turkeys, they usually mow my flowers and herbs this time of year, but it was a little too clean.  Fruit was carefully picked off the plants, and not a trace of waste.  Something with hands was at work...

So I got busy on crafting a proper raccoon deterrent.  I'm going to leave the following note, in case they can read:

(Not-so-)Dear Thieves,

I'll see your vegetable-vandalizing and plant-pummelling and raise you one super-raccoon-blocking, thief-thwarting, plant protecting, Girlbert's-own-hands-crafted Garden Guard!

I'm not afraid to use the hose, if I catch you, either!

Cordially,

Girlbert

...the teacher will appear.  So they say.

I have long paid lip service to the importance of being grounded and in the moment, but the type A part of my personality often thwarts regular practice.

I found myself in tears many times last week, frustrated by the physical and mental limitations caused by my anti-seizure medication.  I learned that the medication not only causes mental cloudiness, but also heightened emotions, physical weakness, dizziness, drowsiness, and confusion.  I was completely overwhelmed with the most menial of decisions, and here I was, having to make some pretty big choices regarding my finances, belongings (regarding a certain wildfire and possible evacuation of our home) and health.  By Friday night, something had to give, and I went to bed with the intention to take care of myself better over the weekend.  I would allow my mind and body to rest.  I had to.

And Saturday I awoke to a treat.  Breakfast on the front porch brought an aerial display of epic proportions by our community of hummingbirds.  They made me laugh out loud for over an hour with their antics, cursing and body-slamming each other for space on the feeder.  And just as I was marveling in my own, personal, live-action nature channel, it really came to life.  Mother turkey came through the yard for the first time with her new family of chicks.  Then the woodpeckers started heckling me from the trees.  The finches and jays and flickers and crows and grosbeaks and quail and waxwings all raised their voices, spread their wings and revealed themselves.  I was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down my face.  The message was so clear - the moment is right now, right here.  And I stayed put, sipping my coffee, taking it all in, allowing Boyfriend to click away with the camera.

I know I'm not doing it justice with mere words, and the magnitude of the moment wasn't captured digitally, even if I were to post a series of photos or a video.  So I'm gifting you with this clip - it's the only thing that comes close to capturing how I felt.  So make like Snow White with a smile and a song.