Being an avid lover of the outdoors, it always touches me to see nature moving into the yard and making themselves at home.
We have a host of Mama and baby rabbits that live beneath our overgrown azaleas lining our property. They scamper by past the scurrying squirrels when we open the door to step outside. And March and April brings a whole new wave of birds traveling back down south or just passing through to carry on further to South America. It is the time of year that hummingbird feeders go out to welcome them home for the summer or help them on their continuing journey.
This spring we had a new visitor that brought back wonderful childhood memories. When I was a girl my Grandma Smith had a tall holly bush just outside her living room window. Each year when my cousin, Wendy, and I were growing up a Cardinal would build a nest right at our eye level. One day we would be walking by and there the nest would appear. Then came the eggs and then came the baby birds. Because we were only visiting our grandma's house, we barely caught each stage. We would peep just past the curtain, careful not to frighten the mother bird while she sat on her eggs, then aided her babies. And one day we would be passing by, and the nest would be empty.
The other day I was watering the flowers in the window boxes beneath our bedroom windows when I noticed a small nest burrowed just outside our windowsill. And with eager anticipation I looked forward to showing this to the grandchildren in hopes they could perch on our bed and watch the circle of life take place as we did while growing up. These are the moments Mother Nature blesses us with interaction even if it is behind a viewing pane.
Our son has a one-acre back yard with goats and turkeys, chickens and rabbits. He has a veritable mini farm which does not surprise us, due his love of the outdoors growing up.
But one day when I pulled up to the front drive, I noticed a stately colorful rooster perched on his privacy fence eyeing me as I got out of my car. I asked Joshua about it and he told me he just appeared one day. His wife named him Hai Hai.
Hai Hai does not belong to them. In fact, they are not sure who he belongs to, but wherever he lives he returns to his home each evening as the sun sets. And then in the morning after sunrise, he is back perched on their fence, watching carefully over the front yard. I find this hysterical and mystifying.
Last night a line of storms pushed through packing a powerful punch. All was well one moment and the next our phones were going off with tornado warnings as the electricity shut off. I called my son who lives five miles away to check on them. All was well there. But just after I hung up the phone it hit them as well, sending them into the bathroom shower to take cover. They heard things hitting the house and roof, but it passed as quickly as it hit.
The next morning revealed a destroyed roof, flipped goat houses, and fallen trees. And in the middle of the mess in the picture Joshua sent me on his phone was Hai Hai standing in the back yard checking out the damage.
All was well. The sun was shining and no person or animal was harmed. That is what I love about nature. In the midst of life's storms, we are reminded even by our feathered friends that we have each other's back.
