Now we see through a glass darkly

Now we see through a glass darkly
Helen Keller and her mother exemplified in the Miracle Worker

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Dancing in the woods

Spring break was always a time for mom and me to go camping in the woods. We would hike for miles and miles and live off of the paltry provisions, we’d carry and anything that we could catch. We would set a camp each night and then set off for a greater wilderness wandering at daybreak. I did so love the smell of the wild and mom’s pipe, which were my delightful enjoyments, along with the pictures that we both kept of sketched wildlife that we would do.

This morning mom was tired from hiking and her knees were aching a bit, so she decided to stay close to camp for the day and collect her thoughts. Shorty was going to pick us up in his plane the next day, so I was eager to set off for a last explore before we went back to the city. Mom said if you are not back here at 5 pm. I will call Shorty tonight and we may never, ever come back, Do you hear me? This was my first, but certainly wouldn't be my last lone explore. Mom and I synchronized watches and it was 6:05 am and I remember every single cloud that was in the sky. They were large, white and puffy and seemed to rejoice with me that I was going to be freely enjoying their entertainment for the next several hours. I knew how to mark my path, so that I would know my way back. The first tree marks that I made were entirely too close together. I was imagining getting very lost, some paces from the camp. I counted my every step and wrote the number on my markings, meticulously. At 7 I felt that I had gone as far as I wanted, for the day and made a campfire and sat on a rock at the side of the river with my binoculars. I took out my sketch pad and my pocket knife and my sling, just in case there were any threatening animals approaching.

The morning dew was drying in the sun, but the shady places were still too wet to have an easy time setting my fire. I collected much dry brush as I could find, but it was quite a while before I got a real fire going. I am afraid that all of the wildlife that I was trying to sketch were scared away by my clumsy setting of a fire at that time of the morning. I set up my hook and reel and I was really hungry and hoping that I might catch a bite here and there before too long.
A sigh of reality and freedom had overtaken any real fear of what might have happened out there.

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jayne c walker's

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_________________________________________________________________________________________________<>Robins Don't LeanBluejays Don't Beg

For the Birds?

For the Birds?
click on the picture to for an Evvie story.

Sparrow's Spring nest

Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow were caught, by me yesterday, shopping together for a new home. They flitted and flirted, just outside my window. Talking and discussing and lovingly disagreeing, if not arguing the benefits and the pitfalls of living at our house.
Mrs. Sparrow was very impressed with the 2 "ready made" nests hung outside our window. Mr. Sparrow hadn't even thought of them as "ready-made" nests. He used them for the provision of building materials for the private home that he had in mind in a surprise and hidden place. He doesn't like the openness, at all, of our porch. It's much too populated. When Mr. Sparrow gets it into his mind to give his sweet chicky a peck, he wants the freedom to do it without a bunch of younguns peeking over the nest to see what comes next.
Mrs. Sparrow was impressed that the porch was fully protected from hailstones. We all know what happened to a great many of last years' nests in that surprise hailstorm we had. Male birds seem to have a very short memory for storms. They have only one thing in mind in the nest building season... 03/09