The nest is high in the pear tree, almost too high to photograph.
But if I stand in the right spot and hold my camera at the right angle, I catch glimpses of the nestlings. Sometimes the parents, too.
Yesterday, with the help of a tripod, I managed a few video clips.
The robin nestlings have held much of my attention recently, but a few days ago I stepped away from the nest long enough to set up a Twitter account…
Follow @raespen_
A few months ago, the yard’s squirrels were pairing off and building nests. Now the male squirrels have returned to their solitary ways, and the females are busy raising their young. Earlier this week, one of the females brought three kittens along when she visited the feeder.
While she ate, her kittens zipped around the yard. They raced up and down the fence, over and under benches and planters, exploring every corner of every flower bed.
After the little family moved on, a larger, solitary squirrel ambled through. It ate until the feeder was empty, paused for a sip of water, then spent several minutes marking the fence. It marked the entire perimeter of the yard, and I wondered if the behavior was territorial or simply a form of communication.
I haven’t seen the kittens again, but I’ve been adding an extra handful of seed to the feeder each morning, hoping they will return. The other squirrels have noticed my generosity.
While the squirrels are getting more numerous, the rabbits seem to be waning in number. So I was happy, this afternoon, when an adult rabbit stopped by for a bath and a nap in one of the corner flower beds.
I can’t help getting excited when I see a rabbit resting in the yard. Maybe there will be another nest soon, and more babies?
Or maybe the rabbit simply needed a quiet place to nap, and the only nests I’ll find in May will belong to the robins…
As winter dragged on and on this year, I developed an irresistible craving for flowers. I fantasized about petunias and daisies, about hanging baskets and terra cotta planters, about a yard filled with butterflies and hummingbirds.
Now that spring is here, I stop at the garden store every time I leave the house. I stroll through aisle after aisle of perennials and annuals, drooling over vivid shades of purple, red, and pink. And every time I stop at the garden store, I bring home a new flower. (Sometimes a new spider, too.)
My carpets are tracked with dirt, half of my fingernails are broken, and I’ve run out of pots and baskets. I might regret my spring flower frenzy when the yard turns hot and humid this summer, when the mosquitoes and black widows arrive and the flowers wilt every afternoon. Or when whatever is eating the pansies starts eating everything else.
But for now, I’m happy.
Today was finally warm enough to feel like spring. Add in an entire afternoon of bright sunshine, and it was a beautiful day in the yard.
As much as I enjoyed my afternoon in the yard, I couldn’t help comparing it to last year’s spring, which was both warmer and earlier than this year’s season. By the end of March last year, the pear tree was fully in bloom and the yard was full of bees. This year, the pear tree is only beginning to bloom and I haven’t seen a single bee.
Last year, all threats of frost were past. In fact, there were days that felt like summer. The tulips were blooming and spiderlings were hatching. This year I’m afraid to uncover the ginger lilies, because it seems likely we will see more frost, and the tulips are just getting started.
I wonder if our delayed spring will spill over into a delayed summer, or if summer will simply storm in right on the heels of winter.
The yard seems blissfully unaware of next week’s weather forecast, which calls for overnight temperatures in the teens and highs barely above freezing.
Perhaps the yard knows more about forecasting weather than our current computer models? The roses, pear tree, and hydrangea have roused from their winter slumber, as have the tulips and hyacinths.
(This is the same hyacinth that I photographed earlier this month…)
It’s not just the plants. A swarm of hoverflies invaded the yard today.
And the winter flocks of robins have broken up. They chirp testy challenges to each other as they forage, defending larger and larger spheres of territory. Last week, seven or eight birds happily shared the pear tree’s branches. Today, there was only one.
The weeds needed mowing yesterday, which shaved off an entire crop of blooms. A few escaped the mower’s blades, mostly those growing in the iris beds and cactus pots.
While photographing weeds, I noticed the old cactus seems to have produced some kind of seed this year. Would I get a new cactus, if I planted it?
Finally, I considered washing the windows today, but decided to put it off again. They aren’t completely opaque, yet…
I’ll get to it later this week. Maybe.
Rae Spencer 