That’s one of the messages that emerged about being unplugged for almost a week…it’s important to make time to see and feel what’s in our hearts.
In solitude, there is healing.
Speak to your soul.
Listen to your heart.
Sometimes in the absence of noise we find the answers.
Mirrored on the lagoon.
Another one of my secret spots to take a break, breathe, and reflect.
Looking west toward the ocean; peaceful, not a ripple.
**Quote from a lovely little inspirational book by Dodinsky.
Family can show up in different species, too.
My crow family (I refer to them as my cousins) are getting ready for spring by building nests in the backyard trees in preparation for the next gen. They return to the same location every year.
Did you know that crows are among the smartest animals in the world? Their intelligence is similar to that of chimpanzees. A crow’s brain accounts for almost two percent of its body mass, similar to that of humans.
I talk to them all the time and it seems as if they accept me and don’t even blink an eye when we’re together in the garden, and have brought me many shiny gifts throughout the years.
This crow cousin was gathering twigs and grasses for her nest. If you look closely, you’ll see she likes pine needles, too.
Nest construction begins in early March and will continue through about June. It takes one to two weeks to finish a nest after which the female will lay a clutch of two to six eggs.
Crow nests are made mostly of pencil-width twigs. A new nest is usually about 1.5 feet across and 8-10 inches deep. After the bulk of construction is complete, they’ll line the cup of the nest with soft materials like grass, tree bark, moss, flowers, paper, or fur.
Both partners participate in nest construction. Helpers might aid to some degree but most of the work is left to the parents. https://corvidresearch.blog/
I help too, and gave them the fringe I cut off a pillow that I planned to recover in a different fabric.
It’s raining today, unexpectedly, because all that was forecasted was some light drizzle, and now everything is wet. I hope my crow cousin’s nest is somewhere warm and dry. I’m going to look for more nesting material they might like to use because it makes me happy to think I’m kinda sorta like THEIR family, too.
(All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells.)
This Red-Shouldered Hawk is perched on a palm tree just over the fence in the open space.
I often see these majestic birds of prey soar high overhead or perch like this on tree branches. Its rising, whistled kee-rah is a distinctive sound. They hunt small mammals, amphibians, and reptiles.
I hope he’s looking for his next meal…he’s the very real definition of hawk-eye!
On a side note, could the sky BE any bluer? I think not.
(PS All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells)
My poetry professor would be proud of this haiku I wrote…
solitary finch
perched deep in the mulberry
will you stay or go?
By Princess Rosebud
This morning, I looked up into the branches of a winter-nude mulberry and couldn’t resist snapping a photo of this precious little finch.
I had to run to retrieve my phone as I willed her to stay long enough for a photo op. “Please don’t move, please don’t move, please don’t go.”
And she didn’t.
I was rewarded with a mostly monochromatic composition, which is exactly what I’d hoped for. In reality, the little bird has a yellow breast, but the quality of light turned everything almost colorless and dramatic.
What in the world did I just hear?
It was a warm night and the patio doors were open…
I’m used to hearing coyotes and the occasional hoot of a pair of Great Horned Owls that live in the ‘hood, but last night I heard what could only be described as a MONKEY — but that’s crazy, right?
I turned off the TV, grabbed my phone, and pointed it outside.
You can hear it too, the monkey sounds in tandem with very faint owl hoots. The hoots didn’t get picked up as I was recording though the screen door, so you might not catch it. Definitely turn up the volume.
I did some research: What is a bird that sounds like a monkey — and thanks to the brilliance of Google, a zillion results popped up.
It turns out that I might have been lucky enough to hear a Barred Owl, which is more rare here. Or it’s another vocalization from the Great Horned Owl, one I’ve never before heard.
Barred Owls are huge, between 16 to 25 inches long, with a broad wingspan of up to 60 inches. Since I’m five feet tall, I cannot even fathom that.
Whoever it was, I’m overjoyed! It’s one more animal friend helping to rid my garden of disease-ridden rodents. Bon apetit!
Apologies again for the crappy video, as this was my screen door and I couldn’t turn off the flash because I didn’t want to mess around and lose the capture.
So what is it? Monkey? Owl? Monkey Owl? Or something else?
The mournful song of my little dove reminded me of a poem by Becky Hemsley.
She walked along the pathway
And she hadn’t walked for long
When she met a little bird
Who sang a melancholy song
She listened for a moment
To his sad, enchanting sound
And she asked him why he sang his song
When no-one was around
“I sing to tell the forest
That the day has just begun
And I join the morning chorus
As we’re welcoming the sun
I sing so all the other birds
Will know they’re not alone
And I hum to all the trees
To help their leaves and branches grow
I sing for all the creatures
As they go about their day
And I whistle warnings to the sky
That clouds are on their way”
But why,” she asked him gently
“Is your song so bittersweet?
Why does it sound like longing
And like yearning when you tweet?”
“I sing to feel less lonely,”
Said the tiny, little bird
“And I tweet into the quiet
Just so I can feel heard
For when the sun is busy,
When the other birds have flown,
When the trees are climbing skyward
Then I’m left here on my own
And I sing to ask the questions
That are tearing through my mind
But I don’t know what I fear the most
Silence… or the reply”
Becky Hemsley
This is a friend’s land tortoise who likes to make himself at home in their living room. They’ve had him for a couple of decades and he follows me around when I wear pink or red. He must think I look like a hibiscus flower, his favorite snack.
Don’t know who did this, but it’s a cute fire hydrant, all dressed up.
I tried to get closer to this white egret, but he flew away…
They’re back! Nothing says springtime like a visit from these guys.
Scott’s Orioles are so deliciously bright and vibrant and they very rarely sit still long enough to get a good photo. I was in the right place at the right time for sure!
Look at this male beauty perched on my grapevine.
The love of and for moms.
This photo is my definition of motherhood; five goslings closely following mom (and dad), learning to eat and swim. And survive.
For me, that’s part of what makes a good mom; unconditional and protective love combined with teaching essential life skills.
In my case, I was often referred to as the “smother mother“, but it’s a label I wear with pride. I’m not a helicopter mom, but even better…I’m (still) a DRONE mom. I’m the same with the grandkids; laser-focused on them at all times.
Every seven years, my birthday falls on Mother’s Day. As my mom often said, I was the perfect Mother’s Day gift for her, and as my son tells me, I wouldn’t have anything to celebrate without HIM, so he’s the one who actually deserves the gifts and accolades. He’s a funny guy.
In my opinion, tomorrow’s the perfect enchanted day to double my joy and celebrate ME. .
My crow cousins have been leaving gifts for me all around the garden and deck.
Shiny and sparkly!
So far I’ve discovered these four baubles. I always look up to see if I can catch the gift giver; so far I haven’t, but I say thank you out loud as I pocket my treasures.
Crows are known to give small gifts to people who pay attention to them or feed them. The phenomenon is actually called “gifting”. I don’t feed my local crow family as there is plenty to eat without my intervention, but I do talk to them and generally love their presence, so maybe they feel that emotion and return the affection. I’ve read that crows (and other corvids) remember the faces of those who are mean to them and those who are especially kind.
Some of my neighbors don’t appreciate our community of crows as much as I do, and I’m positive they aren’t receiving the same kinds of gifts like I am.
I’m full of gratitude to my bird family Thank you, cousins!
Check out another crow post:
https://enchantedseashells.com/2023/01/25/crows-crows-and-more-crows/
Enchanted Seashells by Princess Rosebud 