There seemed to be a day of comfort among the flowers. Lady Lunar Moth sunk beneath the sheets of comfort in the Daylilies petals. She drank deeply of the nectar of the flowers and told every secret of her heart to her dearest friend. It seems a shame that they will only be friends for the day. The sadness that Ms. Moth endured seemed to be something that would have lasted longer than the day. But how true it is, that each day has enough, to bear with its own troubles. Ms Moth will wake up to a dead daylily but she bore her heart and tomorrow is sure to be a better day. Still it seems futile that such friends should share so much for just one day. I saw Ms. Moth still asleep when I left.
The hyacinths smoking had outlasted themselves. Their season of smoking and gossip seems so short. Nothing seems to get past their wistful gaze. I miss them and their 2nd hand smoke. They are beautiful as they puff and gossip, but not discreet in the least. They share everything they hear and never spend a moment fixing their own troubles, just gossiping about others.
My attention was struck by a new relationship starting in the courtyard. Mr Tree and Ms. Vine had their first handshake. The earth quaked and quivered at the beauty of it. I was surprised that, instead of the usual sundry spider web donning the august tree, there was a single strand of vine making the acquaintance of his handsomeness. This is their very first handshake and he was obvious in his admiration of her greenery. He has no idea that she has intentions of covering his branches with greenery. He thinks this is a friendly handshake. To her, this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. She has roots, already covering his feet. Their conversation is civil and polite. She is trying to see how her skills can decorate his barren areas.
He does have leaves and flowers on top that are a royal part of the economic system of the courtyard. He does business with the sun and the flying insects and the birds and has a complete rapport with all of the social elements. He has no idea that he is missing something. He has no leaves on the bottom branches and Ms Viney knows all about this. She knows that she can remain 100% herself and still decorate him. He cannot see the advantage, yet…
The bumblebees don’t even know what is going on. They visit the blossoms and blooms several times a day to buy and sell and rest and have picnics, but nobody guesses that Viney has designs on Mr. Tree, from the first handshake
assorted short stories about wildlife and cattle "The birds, their carols raise..."
Now we see through a glass darkly
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jayne c walker's
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
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
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