I’m sitting in the sun on my deck. A gentle breeze whispers by every now and again. I can hear human sounds: cars in the distance, a chain saw somewhere, a lawn mower running. The church bells tell me it’s 10:00.
In the distance, a dog barks, and I can hear the blur of people’s voices – an indistinct indication that I’m not alone.
And underlying all of this, is a chorus of birdsong. My neighbourhood is an old one – the heritage district near St Mary’s hospital. So we are blessed with mature trees, lilac bushes, cedars and small evergreens here and there. And as a result, many birds.
I can hear a cardinal reminding us that this is his territory. Sparrows, house wrens, robins, and red wing black birds add joyfully add to the cheer. The occasional starling inserts their strident comments, they seem to be saying ‘simmer down! Don’t be so happy!’
There are so many different bird voices that I can’t identify them all. I bet once my sister Linda gets back from sailing she can tell me who is in my yard – she is a much better birder than I.
An American Goldfinch lands above my head on a branch of the Mayday tree that’s adding its fragrance and beauty to my yard. We consider each other for a few seconds. Then he flits away as quickly as he’s come.
As I turn back to my writing, a chipmunk appears on the end of my deck and starts chattering at me, apparently unhappy with my presence in her space. Well too bad friend, I think, now I’m part of this space too. Also, I make a mental note to get some nuts to feed her when I’m out here next.
Each day when I check my yard there is something new to delight me. I have so many plants coming up: bleeding hearts, tulips, grape hyacinth, forget-me-nots, lily of the valley, peonies, day Lilies, snow-in-the-mountain, some other little pink ground cover plant. A lilac bush is starting to bud, and the forsythia in the front garden is beautiful.
I’ve had contact from my kids, and have spent time drinking coffee and writing in my garden. The rest of the day is mine to spend as I wish. How could a mother’s day get any better?