Quiet morning in the woods.
Actually, it’s not quiet at all. People only think the forest is quiet. Actually, it’s a noisy squawking pounding cackling world out there. The woodpeckers drum on the rotten trees, searching for insects. Robins and sparrows and 341 other species of flying creatures call, careen, sing, bicker, chirp and tweet.
Light begins to filter through the trees very early. I’m not sure exactly what time. (I’ll know on Tuesday morning when I hop in the car and drive way down to Rhinelander, Wisconsin, to catch my flight to NYC via Minneapolis. Will probably have to depart around 4:30 a.m. although the final decision is still out.)
It gets dark late here in the Northwoods in June. In less than three weeks (the Solstice, you know) it will be light until about 10:50 p.m. Honest! Part of the reason for this anomaly is that we sit directly north of Central Time Zone. We probably should be in CTZ. But we’re not. So we enjoy sun late, late, late into the long summer nights.
Back to the woods. (Oh, excuse me. The intent for writing this blog today is to avoid starting work on my township checks and other book work. Procrastination, you know. Suddenly blogging seemed a much more appealing project! Hank, that’s why you blog, Hank that’s why you take pics...see yesterday’s blog if these italicized words seem like gibberish.)
But back to the woods. Yesterday a wee bird flew into our window and sat, stunned, eyes closed, on the deck. I almost stepped on the fellow while preoccupied with a luncheon plate, carrying it out to the deck table. The bird refused to move. It never budged when the big eye of the camera approached it–really close. I photographed it for five minutes and it never blinked.
Suddenly it occurred that perhaps I shouldn’t be coldly clinically photographing the little stunned woodland creature. Perhaps prayer and energy might help it re-awaken and fly away. I tried to imagine energy filling it, healing it. The bird opened its eye and blinked and tried to move. It still couldn’t move. Ahhh, let it rest awhile longer. And later–I looked again–and it was gone. Flown away.
That’s when I noticed the red-breasted robin sitting in a nearby maple. It’s the papa-robin watching over mama-robin in her nest beneath the deck.
And a flicker dug for worms or insects in the damp earth beneath the robin.
Green, green, green leaves electrify the woods everywhere! So do mosquitoes and the new hatch of black flies. Just when the woods are the most beautiful, you don’t want to enter for fear of attack. They like to lunch on tasty warm-blooded morsels. Yes, you. They would like to eat you for breakfast, lunch, dinner and sixteen snacks. Just sayin’.
Our garden is 86.5% planted. After today it will be 93.5% done. Tomorrow–should all go well–should the bean fence be resurrected–it shall be 100% planted. (Dear Rain God, Please Hold Off any more Moisture. Thank you.)
We are bringing our garbage to the Garbage Man between 11:30-12:45 at the Aura Town Hall. We are hoping he will agree to take our ancient vacuum cleaner. I wondered to Barry why we BOTH had to go to the Garbage Man. He explained because it’s our “date”. Ahhh….see how we entertain ourselves in the woods?
OK, I have just written 672 words attempting to avoid my township work. It is now time to turn bravely toward the checks. The birds are all chirping and hollering in agreement. The temperature is supposed to reach 80 degrees today. (26.6666666666 in Celsius, so says the Google search. There were probably a lot more 6’s but I thought you would understand.)
A perfect ideal wonderful awesome incredible gorgeous magnificent day in the woods! (Except for those mosquitoes and black flies and wood ticks. Here’s one now. Slap! Slap. Miss…)