September 23
It’s 5:55 in the morning. Sky is dark. Air is thick with fog and quiet. It feels like I am the only one awake. Like I’m up before the starting of day. There are scattered birdseed husks, peanut shells, and slugs on the ground below. It looks like the ending of a well-attended party. I like to imagine in these moments that I’m opening a café, readying the place for the customers to come. There are the little brown birds, little birds with blue on their heads and necks, and occasional red birds that swoop down in orchestrated movements. Surprisingly quick when they do fly down, they are the planners. They move in orchestrated short bursts hopping from branch to branch inching closer to the bowl. Tree fills with small birds. As if there is a signal, they finally swoop, all at once to the bowl and the stones on which the food is scattered. As if on cue, they will jump at each noise or movement and fly away all at once.
I never know who will drop in. Sometimes, it’s the magpie that drops by from time to time, the pigeon cousins, and the squirrels: the one that gathers walnuts and peanuts one at a time, like this is their favorite take away restaurant, zipping around the house, then along the fence, up tree, to a nest I imagine is tucked away in a high up nook to stack treats into a cupboard for winter. But also the squirrel that scoops up a tasty nut or sunflower seed, nibbles it there by the step close enough to the bowl to dip in for another and far enough so that other animals can grab a snack. Some animals are patient and polite waiting for others to finish or get a morsel in between others eating and then go off to the tall grass to eat or to wait. They move slowly, cautiously, as if not to startle. Even when there is more than one of them, they seem mindful of others around them. Caring even. They don’t seem to take more than they need.
More adventurous than I would have thought, some days slugs stay overnight, sometimes sleeping in the food bowl. Not the most recommended place. When I first started feeding birds and other animals, I didn’t watch them. I scattered the seeds and went about my day. In the morning, I’d freshen the water bowl, rinse out the food one, refill it with seeds and work from home or work from the office or work while on the way to the office. I don’t know when I started to look out of the window or when I started to linger there. But one day, I found myself more frequently at the window, looking for movements of little birds, noticing personalities and routines. Wondering. Now, I find myself writing about their little world and the way they make me feel. My place in their world, and how I hope to make them feel. I am in awe of this naturing nurture or of nurturing nature. Either way, I’m glad to be noticing the world around me, to be taking part in it, to be home.
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