July 7.
I wore a priceless necklace today to mark a special day. It is not a fancy necklace, by any stretch, and is probably only worth a few dollars, if one were to recreate it. But the value to me is immense…
I have been watching the building of a home and family for the past 27 days, since the Sunday I was gardening and noticed a female hummingbird showing special interest in a certain spot in a tree. I have watched her build her nest, piece by piece. Her nest grew surprisingly quickly, given that she could only carry a small bit of moss, a spot of lichen, or one fluffy bit of plant down at a time. I have been able to take pictures all along the way, including the day she laid her first egg, and two days later, the second. I visited her first thing every morning, to check the progress of her incubation, and it was the first thing I did when I got home from work each day. We spent a lot of time sitting quietly together, her sitting patiently on the nest and surveying her surroundings, while I tried to wait patiently for her to leave the nest for a moment, so I could set up or retrieve my camera without disturbing her. In the past few busy weeks, those were quite literally the only times I have been able to sit, quiet and still.
I was hoping that this weekend would be when the eggs would hatch, and I was prepared to shun all activities and people, in an attempt to film them hatching. I had gotten several good videos of her sitting on the nest, and I felt prepared. What I was not prepared for this morning was finding an empty nest…
(Moss and lichen, but not Lungwort)
I woke up this morning to the sound of voices in the house. Not unusual, since my husband gets up early and likes to watch the news. I find it unsettling, the sound of strange voices, and whatever dream I am having just before waking up usually takes a strange turn as I drift from dreamland to somewhat awake. This morning, I was unprepared for the tornado of emotion that struck, when he came into the bedroom and asked, “Do you know Meadowdale Beach Park?” His perfectly innocent question took me on a ride of memories and emotions that left my mind reeling, and me weeping. Fortunately, he had already left the room…
Most evenings, I ask my 15-year old son the same litany of questions: How was your day? Anything interesting to report? Did anything good happen? Did anything bad happen? Did you do anything to make someone else’s day better? Because he is a 15-year old boy, the answer is usually “Fine” to the first question, and “No” to the remaining ones. Although getting actual word responses versus grunts should be considered a win, I always try to press a little on the last question, because I want him to be a leader, and I want him to understand the importance of his actions, and how they affect other people. I want to encourage him to reach out to others, and do his best to bring out the good in those around him. I want him to develop people-skills that will benefit him for the rest of his life. When I ask him if he smiles at people, he tells me that he only smiles at people he knows, because to do otherwise would be viewed as “weird”. I find that so sad, but then I have to remember, I am not in a huge urban high school, trying to tread lightly and make it safely through each day…