Lots of Life in the Ol' Back Yard

My determination to write about something other than the raccoon caper led me to the back yard, which is supporting life abundantly. High in a tree there rests a dove, who is nesting with her eggs. Her piercing eye, highlighted by a blue halo, keeps careful watch on the goings on beneath her. In another corner, my garden seems to be thriving. The evidence suggests we will have a bumper crop of tomatoes. There are bell peppers, blackberries, cucumbers and cantaloupe on the way, too. That is if I can keep the raccoons out of there. It always comes back to the raccoons these days. The little furry friends achieved a major developmental milestone today. They climbed into a tree all by themselves. They worked hard, too. I can tell you that raccoons pant, raccoons yawn and raccoons like to sleep in trees. I can also tell you I was proud when they made it all the way up the trunk and into the limbs. One is quite obviously stronger than the other, and the smaller one actually fell out of the tree to the ground about six feet below. Undaunted and determined, it climbed all the way back to join its sibling.
I guess a rising raccoon lifts all varmints.
The only reason I bring this up is because they climbed the same tree in which the dove is living, but she never moved a feather. After all, this post is about her, not the raccons.

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Hazardous Duty

Rest in the Nest is Best
Originally uploaded by Darrell

I've been diligent about keeping the bird feeders in the back yard full of seeds. This means we've had an explosion in avian population here on the cul-de-sac. This time of year, happy birds build homes for baby birds. Here are two of the yard's newest feathery citizens.
My wife can vouch for the fact that I earned this photo. I had to use a tall ladder to climb high into a tree. Then, I had to endure urgent dive bombing by the parents. Somewhere during the prcoess, I became grateful that my wife did not have a camera in her hands, because it dawned on me that she must have been witnessing an utterly preposterous scene.
I was standing on the top rung of the ladder wearing a polo shirt and boxer shorts (It was in my fenced back yard). I'm pretty sure all she could see was my legs. Actually, I kind of hope that's all she could see, the more I visualize the events.
Hey, sometimes you have to suffer for your art and sometimes you surrender your dignity. I hope the little birds make it.

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