I love Wrens

     In the Peterson Field Guide these adorable little birds are described as "stumpy".  We plump people would perhaps prefer to use the words 'portly', and short-tailed.  They couldn't possibly be fat because they are unbelievably energetic!  This is mostly why they are so entertainingly endearing!  They never stop moving.  Twitching, hopping, poking into every crevice, crack and pocket that might hold something yummy. 
     If you have ever seen the movie "Animal House", there is a scene where John Belushi is kind of crouched over stiffly hopping to face left, then right, knees bent.  He looks just like a Carolina Wren!  Which brings me to their strange Latin name.
     Wrens are in the family "Troglodytidae".  That name has always bothered me.  When you pronounce it you hear the unmistakable word 'Troglodite'.  I always thought that meant caveman or Neanderthal (hmm, like Belushi's character?)  How could something so cute and smart (I'll get to that later) be called such a derogatory name?
     Well I looked it up...  Within the definition;  primitive... not in the least!  Cave dweller... ok, and then, "one who creeps into holes"... BINGO!  Watch a wren, of any species, for even a little while and that is exactly what you'll see!  They fearlessly disappear into every hole they come upon.  I say fearlessly because most birds are very wary of being trapped or cornered.
     Their favorite treats are spiders.  They appear to be so smart because they return daily to the same places that are adorned with webs.  Do they know that spiders make webs or do they just remember the place where they found a succulent morsel previously?  I leave the webs and spiders (as many as I can stand) on my porch just to have the delightful, jovial little troglodites visit regularly.
     You can hear them coming at least a property or more away.  They are loud and gregarious like Blue Jays, although not at all as pushy.  Some of them prefer bird houses like House Sparrows, though they can be particular about the size and shape and the position of the opening.  They produce usually five white eggs speckled with brown and some are known for nesting in just about anything from pockets in abandoned laundry to aluminum cans and flower pots!  Their long down-curved bill is perfect for poking around stirring up bugs, but I recently have seen a Carolina Wren in my seed dish.
     We have, so far, seen only two of the nine species here at Naturegirl Central.  I will be looking for the darker brown, mouse-like Winter Wren on the ground this year now that research for this blog has brought to my attention that they should be here, poking around brush piles and firewood!  The two we have are very different looking birds.  Carolinas are a rich rusty brown with a large distinctive white eyebrow and House Wrens are a slimmer taupe-y light brown with a beautiful song.  House Wrens also leave to go further south and Carolinas do not.
     My favorite thing about Carolina Wrens is this discovery...
One night while making a pilgrimage to the back yard with my ailing dog Bentley, I was standing, shivering next to our screen-draped patio gazebo when something suddenly made me look up.  In the dark, peering back at me, lit only by the moon, were two tiny beady little eyes astride a long, curved beak, tucked inside a pocket created by a loop of fabric.  (I apologized for the disturbance.)
     Last night as I was wondering if he or she was still using the same loops of fabric even though they were re-purposed long ago, I got my answer.  The porch lights were misfiring due to strong winds yesterday and as I tapped at them, I heard a shuffling, scratching sound in the canvas nearby.  Fortunately I do not startle easily, even in the dark.  There again was my friend trying to get some sleep, this time only his or her stubby little tail was visible.  I appologized AGAIN!  What a pest I am!

The Healing Power of Animals

     So many times I have been inspired by stories people have told me about how their pets have helped them heal or came into their lives at a particularly difficult time.
     There is no doubt that they have a certain "something" that we lack.  Dogs seem to know when you're coming home, even if its a different time every day.  I have tested this and silently crept in to my house only to find the little furry mind-readers waiting and wagging.  There were no car door slams or windows for them to spy on me through.  Just pure love on four paws.  I'm sure cats are even more aware but they don't want you to think they care so much!
     So, are they psychic?  Are they just more able to focus than we are?  Are they less distracted by the world around them?  Are they more closely connected the the Creator than we are, or all of the above?
     Pets know when you are sick and curl up on your lap or your bed in support.  Animals are sensitive in ways we do not yet understand.  Dogs are employed to find bombs, drugs and missing people.  Many different species are helping us as service animals.  I've even seen a pygmy horse assisting a wheelchair bound human!   Are they so full of pure energy that they just really want to help us?                                                                                                                                                  
     Now, how can we tap into this?  Perhaps all we need to do is love them back and that will open the pathway, the flow of healing.  We know that laughter is the best medicine; that smiling actually releases endorphins (those healing, stabilizing hormones).  I've heard that petting your cat can do the same thing!  All of this used to be "hocus-pocus" but is now backed by science.
     Anyone who has pets will tell you that they can be very funny!  They seem to do it on purpose.  They are very fast learners and it is possible that they just enjoy our laughter or feel the response as pleasant, but I think they know exactly what they're doing!  I had a pig once who would tug on my pantleg cuff and try to get me to chase her around the barnyard! (Which I, of course, did.)  She was a character!
     I would like to take this a step further.  I think it is no accident that animals come into your life at the perfect, divinely directed time.  Those of us who believe there is a grand scheme to the Universe, a Divine Design if you will, would not find this to be a stretch.  Maybe the critters are even in on it!  They seem to show up "by accident" or "needing a home".  Even if you go out seeking a pet, you never know who you'll find and at precisely the right time.  All of my dogs, cats, birds, turtles and barnyard adoptees have come to me unexpectedly.  Are they dependent upon us or are they here for us, in support of us?
     Animals not only help heal us individually with their comfort and companionship, but they might save the next generation as well.  I am very concerned about kids in this society not learning empathy.  They are bombarded with disturbing images in the form of bloody, violent games, music and movies that I believe callous their feelings and make the occasional horriffic crime seem commonplace and expected; sometimes even funny.  If the "bad guys" are heroes and cruelty to humans and animals is justified how will they learn compassion?
     Animals on the other hand cannot help but teach us patience, (when they have an accident on the rug), forgivness (when they come running right back to you after you trip over them or step on their tail).  Loyalty is demonstrated when your dog guards your children and the yard.  Responsibility is a huge lesson sometimes difficult to instill in the "young'ns" without the help of a hungry, doe-eyed furball anxiously waiting to be fed. 
     Horses don't take any guff from you, bees are amazing communicators, monkeys show us a sense of community, cats have mastered "the art of self ", ducks will eat anything you give them and not complain (unlike kids)!  Bears take their naps when they're supposed to, birds of a feather flock together!  (Just threw in that last one to see if you're still awake!)
     Animals can heal the world if we let them!  The world sure needs some healing, so let's listen to them!











    
    

Torn Between Two Seasons

    There's a whisper of Fall in the air.       ~Just a whisper.~       The air is still infused with Summer humidity.  The breeze is still filled with myriad various butterflies and dragonflies dancing on the wing from Petunia to Buddleia to Lantana.  They look as though they are unaware that Autumn is about to pounce.
     Kids are back to school.  Leaves are crisp and falling.  Many new and some old familiar varieties of apples are beginning to appear at the market.  An early crop of pumpkins and colorful, twisty, warted gourds are making their debut as well.  Thoughts of weeding garden beds and planting perennials have turned to choosing Autumn bulbs and raking leaves.
     The rainy season has arrived, yet sometimes its hard to tell if those storm clouds are ahead of a Summer tropical system or a Fall cold front.  Just stick your head out the door or your nose out the nearest window to become your own meteorologist.  You'll probably do as well as they do!  Raincoat?, thongs?, sweater?, boots?  Open the windows - close the windows... air conditioning, ...not!  Its warm then cool, its humid then dry, its windy then still.  Give it a minute... it'll change!  On second thought, better listen to the professionals!
     Cuckoos have not yet arrived to dine on Tent Caterpillars and immature Cardinals are patchwork quilts of brown, red and olive.  Camellia buds are receiving their innate messages to get ready for the big show.  Some summer shrubs are still sleepily shooting small but persistent blooms.  Few vegetable garden plants remain, giving their gifts of love.  No one told them to stop!  So, the Basil continues on, and on and shares a bed with a now shriveled vine of plump beige-y Butternut squash.
     Yes, there's a whisper of Fall and a thunder bolt of Summer.  Then a whiff of crushed Autumn leaves and a beautiful flutter of Eastern Black Swallowtail wings.  The Catbirds and possibly the Hummingbirds have left and its time for the Northern Robins to start travelling through on their way back up North.
     Confused?  I think not.  Perhaps oblivious.  Most people do not even notice the changing of seasons.  It is definitely more of a blending than a change.  My advise... enjoy the dichotomy.  Savor the gifts of both.  In fact, savor every minute, every delicious second of the time you spend out in Nature. 

Early Morning, Late Summer

    There is a time in late Summer mornings when the sounds and sights and scents are intoxicating.  When the sun peaks through the masque of shattered shade and illuminates tenacious Impatiens, the effect is stunning!  Multi-colored threads of spiderwebs glisten in the dappled sunlight like oil in puddles of
Summer air.

  Starlings gather in the treetops above to discuss the day's itinerary.  In a whoosh of wingbeats they are on their way.  Cicadas are chattering, dragon and damselflies begin their day and crickets are marking their metered music.  Bullfrogs are quieting and settling in to their hollows and insects are hurrying by trying to
avoid them.  Every living thing seems determined and purposeful as it begins the day.

  The sweet scent of some unseen flowers mingles with the earthy smell of cedar and fresh-fallen leaves.  I am overcome as my nose tries to sort them out.  My lungs drawing in more and more as if I couldn't exhale and try again!  Something green, something musty, floral, spicy- the incense of  Nature.
 
  There is a time in late Summer mornings when the breeze is delicious and the birds are too busy to be afraid of you.  When you are "glowing" with the power of appreciation of the surrounding beauty,  you pose no threat to them.  This must be communicated to them because they are all instinct and senses we do not yet understand.  Chickadees are chick-a-dee-dee-ing and Hummingbirds are humming their happy morning song.  Even the yard bunny is otherwise engaged with her breakfast.

  There's a coolness in the air before the sun takes over.  Today the clouds are ever-changing pouffs of every possible cloudy hue.  From brilliant white to deep blue-grey they billow and undulate as they hurry on their way.  Are they going somewhere to wreak havoc and are we just not privy to the joke?
      
   I allow the breeze to blow through me and clear the cobwebs out of my mind.  In a peaceful moment such as this, one can gather one's thoughts and commune with whatever percieved Spirit dwells within.  Perhaps we can hear the plan for our day whispered on the breeze or hidden in the chirps and chatters that fill the
early morning air.

  There is a time in late Summer mornings when one can become enchanted by the launching of Life and the begining of a new day.

Begin Again

     There was no coolness in the air early this morning, none whatsoever.  Having arisen before the proverbial "crack" I expected there to be some leftover relief in the air from the night before.  Dawn wasn't even a hairline fracture yet.  No coolness, just oppressive humidity.  Does that portend the day to follow? I wondered.
     I laid my eyes upon a magnificent dollop of salmon colored whip cream in the sky.  This is the first time I can remember having seen a cloud lit from the East with the dawn side illuminated.  I am more familiar with the other side of the hemisphere where evening hues of lavender and apricot paint the Western sky.
     A cacaphony of birdsongs filled the thick morning air.  They lift the Soul.  Are they all really joyously greeting the new day or is there another more mundane reason for this beautiful commotion?
     Mornings hold the promise of things yet unseen, unexplored, things yet to be accomplished.  A new day to create in, a new chance to try again, a second chance. 
     The Natural World is full of examples of rebirth and re-emergence.  My beloved Catbird couple are apparently trying again at nesting after a disappointing attempt and some very bad luck the first time.  They were scurrying about with strands of grass and twigs last week and visiting their old nesting site after being roundly expelled from a chosen Crepe Myrtle by the resident Mockingbird.  They are undaunted and have begun again somewhere out of sight in an undisclosed location. 
     My Nasturtiums are relentlessly fighting the odds after being snacked upon by hungry bunnies. Even though they were cut off in the prime of life they have sprouted the tiniest of rotund little leaves with that unique starburst in the centers.
     I have an Alstomeria that has come up for four years now never once flowering!  Every year I have counted it out as not having survived the Summer and yet it returns, an intrepid reminder of powerful
universal forces of renewal.
     Our Japenese Cherry tree still has viable roots giving it their all after drought and forgetful caretakers nearly killed her.  I can almost hear her quietly whispering to me in the breeze through brown and crinkled leaves, "Don't give up on me yet.  I will begin again." 
     Shouldn't we take a cue from Nature and allow ourselves the comfort of a "do-over" without harsh criticism from the voices in our own heads.  We knew as very young children if we stumble, scrape our knee or just topple over while attempting our first steps we always could try again, without scorn. 
     Will we still generously grant ourselves and others renewal, rebirth, healing, forgiveness and a rousing call of "do-over!"? 
    
    

Summer: Inside & Out

I'm late for a date with the garden gate.
More hours of daylight til Fall.
There's news to watch and meals to plate.
Thank God it gets dark at all.

First day of Summer, just saw a female "hummer"
Sippin' raspberry bee balm.
What caught my eye, is it a newcomer?
It's nine baby ducks and their Mom.

Outside it's hot, 'round the house I trot
Coffee cup in hand.
What a lovely choice I've got,
Blog or "work my land"!

Roses thorns and thunderstorms
Are reasons to come in.
But dry porch chairs and bandaids worn...
I'd rather be out here than in.

Much to do, enjoy the view,
Bugs, butterflies and bees,
The songs of birds, the flowers' hues,
The scent of Mimosa trees.

Again I'm torn, (as is my norm),
My chair I abdicate.
All the fun out in the warm
Summer sun awaits.

A sense of pride can't be denied
As I gaze at garden rows.
But everytime I step outside,
My long to-do list grows.

I need a break, my muscles ache,
Sweat beads upon my brow.
An air-conditioned iced tea break
Would sure be great right now.

Outside the walls, the garden calls
While inside I ignore
The work I love and still I stall
Before I start my chores.

Labor of Love, a gift from Above,
A blessing of peace undisturbed.
Goldfinch, Catbird, Blue Jay, Doves,
Tomato, cucumber and herbs.

Cardinals woo, Mourning Doves coo,
Nature's abundance just flows.
Witnessing all of the Life bursting through...
Who cares about tv shows!

Ahh Spring

      This is my time of year!  I can't get enough of it.  Anything that's not an absolute necessity is being neglected while I make myself busy with all of the fun, exhausting, back-tweaking but very rewarding toil of Spring.  I feel like when I get it all cleaned up (meaning brown dead stuff gone, green new growth showing through), then it's "presentable".  Now we're open for business.  Of course the wildlife doesn't wait for me...
      With a surge of Lifeforce, in no time we went from buds on twigs to a full-on green hug.  Privacy has returned to our little patch of Heaven.  Old friends I said goodbye to last fall have re-emerged from the soil to get reaquainted.  Peony, Astilbe, Hosta, Tradescantia, Budleia, Iris, Lily and Rose- all very good friends of mine, arriving for a garden party.
      The birds are way ahead of us.  In February the Mourning Doves ceased their mourning and began romancing.  That's why we have a few new plump short-tailed sparsley marked Doves frequenting the feeders.  The first little Robin baby surfaced just last week, looking nothing like a Robin of course.  All speckled and full of Life, exploring, testing objects for possible food sources.  Mom and Dad are around but probably adding to the family already.  They trust that their little ones are fine with the training they were given earlier and under the watchful eye of Mother Nature, they will find their way in this world.
      Osprey and Purple Martin have returned.  Cardinals are courting, the male delicately feeding the female as the Mockingbird is singing his heart out in the treetops.  How can I stay inside?  There's so much to see!
      Across the street there are some very tall Pines that Crows frequent.  When I spied our Blue Jays
nest-building in what looked like the perfect tree crotch I was concerned.  Sure enough one morning there was a flurry of activity and a lot of squawking and cawing.  In a flash - silence.  Again I see Blue Jays nest building this time in my yard.  I wish I could have told them that Crows like eggs for breakfast.
      One of my very favorite birds is the Catbird.  They are so very friendly and curious about us.  Wherever you are if you have Catbirds you can look up and see them quietly stalking you.  They are in the same Family as Brown Thrashers and Mockingbirds, and closely related to Robins.  Though less garish than Mockingbirds they are equally good songsters.  They mimic other birds and sing sweetly in the bushes almost as though they are whistling to themselves.  We have had a pair in the same area of the yard for years now.  It is difficult to believe that they are not the same birds, or at least the same male or female that begins the nest and attracts the mate to it.  (They look identical so who knows which is which.) 
      They are so comfortable around us that this year they have begun building a nest right next to the porch, within view.  Did someone else beat them to their favorite spot?  Are these the offspring that were born here last year? Or has the Viburnum just become that much more irresistable since it has grown in leaps and bounds this year?  These and other issues will be pondered while sipping coffee or iced green tea on said porch this season... binoculars in hand, of course! 

The Easter Bunny

  Today I saw my yard bunny building one of her annual nests.  Most of the time we humans don't get the pleasure of being privy to these secretive operations.  I believe she trusts me, at least to an extent.  I have shielded her from Bentley last year so he wouldn't see her and chase her .  (Not good for his heart or her well being.)  When I see her, or come upon her suddenly, I stop and let her know I'm not after her.  The way to do that is to stop, look down, move slowly in another direction.  Sometimes I even take a step back and assume a kind of hunched, humble posture, sort of like the way Asian cultures show each other respect.
  Yes, I realize this sounds rediculous.  Only do it if you really want to have a personal relationship with the wildlife in your world; and of course if you have a high fence so the neighbors won't laugh at you.
   It really works.  I always feel bad when I stumble into the backyard after the hawk has been there and  flush all the birds out of their hiding spots.  This has made me more self-aware and intraspective.  If you go about your day in a frenzy, it might take some time for the critters to believe you have calmed down enough for them to read you.  But they will if you stick with it.  Besides, its a good discipline to slow down anyway.  Who wants to live life like your hair's on fire?
  This method also works on birds.  There are at least two Mourning Doves that frequent our deck feeders who are unafraid.  I just LOVE that!  Since I was a small child I always felt bad that the birds I love so much were terrified of me.  After all, I feed them, protect them, provide nesting material, plants with seeds and nectar, suet cakes, chase the squirrels and cats and generally treat them like outside pets.  How 'bout a little love once in awhile!  Well some of them finally heard my plea.
  About 12 years ago I learned a valuable trick that I will share with you.  It was taught to me by a tiny three pound Pomeranian.  All of a sudden something would make me look up from whatever I was engrossed in and notice my little Buffey squinting at me in the most peculiar way.  She would then burst into a wagging, wiggling celebration of joy.  This happened so often that I just could not excuse it as coincidence.
  I began to "squint" back at her and she would keep it up for some time.  It was our little game and one of the pivotal points in my education on communication between species.  I began to understand that although Buffey was the tinest of dogs she was the hugest of Souls; filled with Love and sharing it with me.  She knew what she was doing and so do many of the animals we pass off as cute, but dumb.  Not so!  There is a Light in them that sometimes we have to squint to see.
  A few years after her passing while pondering how to communicate with birds, Buffey's "lovey" eyelid method came to mind.  Animal experts maintain that looking bears, apes and big cats straight in the eyes is a challenge to them and generally irritates and ticks them off.  Why wouldn't the opposite be true?  Since we don't have any lions or tigers or bears in our yard... (oh my!)  I deciced to try to be a "Mourning Dove whisperer" instead.  It worked!
   In fact, they do it back to me.  By the way doves have lovely blue eyelids!  The large slider window between my living room and the porch where the feeders are helps keep a "safety" barrier for them.  I can chase the squirrel off their seed dish and they stay.  I can wave off the bully birds (Grackles and Starlings) and they wait til they're gone and hop back on the food bowl.  I believe the two doves most often on my deck understand now that I won't hurt them.  Perhaps they will convince the whole flock.  Although I haven't found any tiny little thank you notes out there, I know they appreciate it on some level.  And it thrills me to no end to have some kind of communication with these birds.  Now back to the Easter Bunny...
  Its hard to tell if this is the same rabbit who has been here for years.  The Eastern Cottontail can live from about three years to eight if protected from preditors.  It's pretty safe here and she's perfectly happy to share the yard with me.  I do the non-threatening droopy-eye thing to her and she just sits there munching her lunch.  I wonder if she is thinking  "what a nutjob human this one is!"  But, nonetheless, she isn't afraid.
  The other day, little Zach next door accidently lost his frisbee over my fence and right in the middle of where Mrs. Bunny was collecting nesting material.  She was travelling with huge mouthfuls of dry grass
back and forth depositing them in the cavity she dug at the base of the rose bush.  It was fascinating to watch.  She let me come within five feet of her as she patiently waited for me to return the requested red
UFO.  At one point she turned her back to me, the ultimate sign of trust in the animal kingdom.  (Of course I was using my wacky "walk softly and carry a big heart" action on her!)
  Rabbit babies are dependent on Mom for only two weeks after birth and "does" can have about five litters of five offspring.  So, this Spring I'm  looking forward to lots of tiny little Easter fluffballs bouncing around the yard.  You don't even have to be a Christian to love that!

Spring: Inside and Out

Dawn's early light, Shorter nights
Showers steady, Raincoat ready
No more Winter blues, Muddy shoes
Sunshine pending, Cold days ending

Old shed leaning, Time for Spring cleaning
Birds on the wing, Dust on everything
Buds on trees, Busy me
Butterfly wings, My vaccuum sings

Hyacinths seen, St. Patrick's Day green
Leaves in heaps, Easter Peeps
Brown lawn greens, Jelly Beans
Bulbs emerge, Families converge

Picking up twigs, Dressing to dig
Ducks have returned, Garden tips learned
Temperatures rise, Plant catalogs arrive
Already? weeds?!, Start early seeds

White flowered clover, Hibernation over
Birds gobble seed, Quilts? No more need
Looking at the growing grass
through panes of yet un-Windexed glass!

Signs of Spring

  Dancing dafodils in the wind
  Buds of red & green
  Winter's promised drear rescinds
  Raindrops often seen

  Wrens hunt spiders newly hatched
  With comical routine
  Bright red Cardinals not yet matched
  Chase rivals from the scene

  Anticipation comes in waves
  Of warmth and plants we dream
  Anxious gardner's hearts behave
  Like hibernating teens!

  Early bulbs break thru the soil
  Poke out their nose of green
  Insects wake, begin their toil
  Thunderstorms will teem

  Rabbits leave their dens behind
  Squirrels start to scheme
  How to rob the feeders blind
  Until I want to scream!

  Mourning Dove's romantic skills 
  Darting Chickadees
  Songbirds tweet melodic trills
  The Signs of Spring are these