Friends in High and Low Places

34.7º N 92.2º W. Little Rock, in Central Arkansas, in the United States

6/11/17 – 6/18/17

 

from Waterfall
by Chris Williamson

When you open your life to the living
all things come spilling in on you
and you’re flowing like a river,
the Changer and the Changed.
You got to spill some over.
Filling up and spilling over, it’s an endless waterfall . . . 


Friends in High and Low Places

The stubborn robin who was in the standoff with me about whether she would build her nest in my patio ceiling fan finally gave up and raised her family somewhere else. I’m glad she wasn’t a Carolina wren. Humans are no match for them.

Wrens are smart, explorative, and bold, and they believe human houses and household accessories are theirs. When one of them scouts your house and gets it in her mind to nest on the patio or porch, you are in for it. It doesn’t matter that they are wee tiny. To begin with, they can scare you half to death.

A friend told me this story. Last year she kept her garden gloves and tools in a rubber bucket by the door on her back porch, which is roofed. She walked within a foot of it two or three times a day without a clue that a bird had appropriated it. Then came a day to tend the garden. My friend said when she reached down into the bucket and the bird exploded up out of there, it scared her so much something changed in her brain. She was left with a permanent aversion to the bucket.

But that’s not all for this friend who is a winner in all ways except wren ways. She has dogs, and she has a doggie door, and sometimes she leaves that open. And this year guess what.

She says it is the same bird who nested in the bucket. AKA the same bird whose little beak cut and removed strands of aluminum wire from the bedroom window screen, trying to get in. She first knew it was in the house when her delicate hanging mobile made crashing sounds instead of tinkles. The dogs never even knew the bird was there. Dogs have senses so much keener than ours, you know. Their mistress ushered them to the other side of the French doors. Then she turned off all the lights and headed toward the back door, thinking to open it wide. But the wren beat her there and zoomed out through the doggie door.

This bird soon chose a place outside the house but still under roof: the vinca basket hanging on the back porch. You can see the nest under construction.

 

 

 

My own latest tale of contests with takeover critters begins and ends with No Contest. A year ago I hung an empty watering can on the patio wall and later found dry grass in it, abandoned bird nest material. I meant to empty and clean it. Meant to only. Now, a bumblebee lives in there. One bumblebee, I think, who, several times a day verrrrry sloooowly and mindfully floats in from its doings like a peaceful monk, and disappears into the can. I figure if I’ve left the can one year I can leave it two. Namaste.

 


‘Tis the Season for the Swimming

However old you are, however many memories you have by now (or don’t), I bet you remember being in the swimming pool in summer when you were a little kid.  I do.

I also have some great memories from when I was older, of teaching little kids to swim. That experience was one of the more worthwhile (and fun!) things I’ve ever done. The picture below is a lesson group of 20 years ago at the YWCA in Little Rock. That institution exists no more in Enchanted Habitat,  I’m sorry to say.

Swim Kids

‘Tis Also the Season for Fresh Garlic

My friend gifted me with newly harvested garlic just in time. Last year’s was getting  sparse in its terra cotta house, and showing signs it might be about to go off. Only garlic could last a year anyway. And the new crop is all that the old was. Thank you Friend, thank you Earth, thank you Garlic!

 


Copyright 2017 Ruth Byrn

Waterfall photo copyright Can Stock Photo

Carolina wren photo from Wikimedia Commons by John Flannery from Richmond County, North Carolina, USA – Carolina Wren, CC BY-SA 2.0