Must Be Spring?

The other day I found a perfectly lovely nest, nestled in the vines I was pruning. Silvery strands of weeds, golden grasses, shredded grocery store plastic bags, all gently woven together into a transitory sculpture that gave me delight.

I called Theo and Rose, we paused our labors for a moment to smile.

A few days later, we continued our work, pruning the vines before bud break. Theo called my attention to a painted bunting, perched on the fence. A few yards away, a large flock, the village, fluttered and danced. I was surprised to see so many of those little gems. They must be journeying from their warm winter holidays. I wonder where they summer?

Tuesday I drove home at dusk from my journey to Odessa for a six month check up with the oncologist. When back, I poured myself a glass of wine and walked around the backyard, feeding the chickens, fixing their fence from foxy marauders, watered some plants. Dozens of vultures swirled and swayed in the evening sky, colorful sunset, dusty air refracting the pink and gold. I called Nora out. She joined me and we sat in the swing, feeling warm and calm.

One night last week I drove home at dark. Something swirled and rolled in the middle of the street. As I grew closer, the headlights revealed a couple of foxes, in flagrante delicto. They were so involved in their moment of delight, they didn't move from the street until I was right upon them.