Birds

Nesting Doves

| Flower Roberts

I was surprised by a young dove that was not surprised by me while I was home. I walked with in feet of it before seeing it. It stared at me like I was just another part of the landscape.

Young dove watching me pack my car.


The doves had been watching us from up in the carport trusses. They were habituated to people coming and going, so they were not startled by a person passing.


The nest sits on top of an old sled. I wanted this title to be Sledding Doves, but that would be too much of a stretch, even for me.

Messy nest hanging off the old sled.

I climbed Daddy’s sturdy ladder to take a peak at the nest. I was eye-to-eye with the dove when my head poked above the ceiling joists.

Howdy Dovey

The nest was a messy pile of sticks. Just enough form to keep the eggs from rolling away. I read that doves take turns parenting their young, so I do not know which parent was on the sticks.

Our new neighbor.

I am happy when wildlife settles down around my home. These doves were a sweet surprise.

FLOW

Nature Comes to Me

| Flower Roberts

I came very close to falling last night. We have steps everywhere outside. I needed to water some pots. I started down some steps at the spigot, I stumbled in slow motion. My bionic knee pogo-sticked me into the air. It was a miracle.
I have promised myself to stay on level ground until my surgery later this month.
I slithered out the front door to my chair. I sat quietly as hummingbirds zoomed across in front of me.
They love the Firecracker Vine. Males and females buzzed by my head. I enjoy the sound of their wings and the quick chirps they make.

Firecracker Vine / Ipomea lobata/ Spanish flag vine

Then not one, but two, Pileated Woodpeckers landed in a tree close-by. These two giants seemed to be conversing face-to-face on the trunk.

Two Pileated Woodpeckers

I am so grateful for these lovely visitors right outside my door. They are all the company I need.

FLOW with friends

Messengers with Wings

| Flower Roberts

My daddy said if there were jobs in heaven, he wanted to help the birds.

Sometimes I get messages from birds and wonder if my daddy sent them.

Once, I was out in the gardens desperately pondering where I belong. I found a feather on my front stoop on the way back into the house. It was under the overhang where a feather was not likely to land. I think my daddy was telling me that I was where I belonged.

Feather message

I looked through my “Paper Memories” notebooks for a photo of the feather on the porch until I remembered that I had kept the actual feather. The notebook under the feather is how I keep track of my thousands of photos. (I will share this in a later post.)

I kept the feather to use when I get around to burning a sage smudge in a place I feel has negative spirit energy. I have never done this kind of thing, but the bad vibes are too strong to ignore. Rose feels them, also. I don’t know what else to do. I will take suggestions from any credible source. ( No weirdness welcome from that chick in Hendersonville please!)

Yesterday, I was rushing around in a panic trying to get everything finished before leaving home. I looked up to see my heron friend. It was reminding my of the importance of pausing and balancing. I paused and took a breath.

Thanks Daddy

Off Balance

| Flower Roberts

It has been difficult to do anything lately.

Both my mind and my body are off balance.

Mr Flower lost his father in April and his mother in May.

They lived close-by. I must remind myself that their house is empty.

We stop by to mow the grass, feed the fish and water the plants.

but the house is empty.

There is much to be done now that no one is home.

My arm is in a sling. It hurts to type, or drive, or sleep.

I watched this heron this morning.

It flew through the breeze to land on this dead tree.

It perched perfectly on the thin dead branches.

It walked along the branch with perfect balance despite the rolling waves below.

Focused and graceful. Safe in its own coordination.

Poised on a precarious perch.

It is centered, not scattered

by sadness and pain.

I envy such balance, while I sit in my sling thinking of an empty house.

FLOW

Balance

| Flower Roberts

Nature is my school. My latest teacher is a heron.

Two of its favorite fishing spots are within sight of my desk.

Both locations have a downed tree lying in shallow water.

The heron balances on the trunks and stares into the water.

It is poised as though it is meditating or doing yoga.

Its movements are slow and deliberate.

Bend and Snap

It is focused on only the water. No wasted movement or attention.

It seems to be doing one thing and only one thing.

In reality it is doing two things.

Balancing and fishing.

Maintaining balance is required first.

Balance is required.

Balance is first.

Balance.

Flow

Cliff Swallow Colony

| Flower Roberts

Cliff Swallows build their nests under the bridge near our home.

They form huge colonies which swoop and tweet as your ride under them.

I love watching their activities from below.

It is all new construction this year.  The old nests were cleared during bridge maintenance over the winter.

The Cliff Swallows carry mud pellets in their beaks and spit them onto the vertical surfaces.

The pair work together to construct a cup and close it in. The result looks like a jug on its side.

Each nest may have as many as one thousand pellets in it. That’s 500 pellets of mud and grass per bird.

Get some mud in your mouth, mix in some grass, fly to your chosen site, carefully spit out the pellet, repeat…

I am so glad I am not a Cliff Swallow.

Flow

Helping Another Mother

| Flower Roberts

One of my flying friends chose to build her nest in a precarious place.

I noticed the mud on the concrete first. Then little scraps of moss and grass.

I wanted to tell her this was not a great place, but she was very determined.

I placed a metal plate on the deck above her nest, so we would avoid that spot when we blew off the leaves and pollen.

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I also knew that the beam her nest is on is in line with drips from the roof. That is where I set out my houseplants when it rains. I guess a bucket will go there now. Can’t let our nest of mud get wet!

Yesterday, I climbed a ladder while the parents were absent.

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I held my camera over my head hoping to photograph eggs. Then I saw something tiny move.

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Yes folks, I am a grandma again.

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So I spent my Earth Day doing what we all should be doing, helping Mother Nature.

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HAPPY EARTH DAY

Grandma Flow

 

His Reflection Addiction

| Flower Roberts

I have tried to save him from himself.

Nothing I have done has worked for long.

The interventions were merely distractions.

Nature has hard-wired him to fight his mirror image.

He thinks it’s another suitor for his mate.

He thinks it’s an invader in his space.

All the while his mate is ignored and his territory is neglected.

He has been fooled by an image.

Fake is Real.

He cannot fight the fixed action pattern in his little brain,

like a twelve year old boy playing Fortnite.

How do we save him from himself?

How do we get him back?

Poor little Mr. Blue.

I am sorry for you.

But go away and leave me be.

Your sickness is robbing me of peace and sleep.

I live here, too.

Blue bird be gone!

My pity won’t save you.

Flower

His Enemy

| Flower Roberts

He comes every morning to fight his foe.

I hear the tap, tap, tapping on the window.

I know it is he, doing battle bravely.

He fights his reflection

because he does not know himself.

He is his own enemy.

 

flow is low

(This post is to honor those innocent  people who were needlessly killed at my alma mater, UNCC.)