The Nursery (SWF)

Soft morning light filters through the sheer curtain--
lace doilies hung to soften the harsh wood of the beams above,



and the sweet smell of hay, bales stacked in wait.
The pastures beyond the barn,
now lush and lively and green.

This cozy room, with its low, whitewashed ceiling and several east-facing windows, is home to our herd of goats, growing smaller each year. Its few elderly members continue their contented existence--trimming the fence lines, chewing their cuds, reclining in spring warmth beside an overgrown cinder block “mountain,” once easily bounded up and over, now best for scratching the itch of winter’s wool.
Barn Swallows build here each spring, nests of mud and straw, firmly plastered to the beams, inches below the white ceiling, and facing the morning light.
Trimmed with long, graceful feather blankets, they appear empty--until I cross before the wall of windows, my shadow creeping over the room.


Five wavering heads rise in silence and thrust orange mouths forward to greet the expected offering of food—
but it is only I.

Barn Swallow nestlings

And so, the lazy slumber reclaims them.




Mother waits outside until the chores are finished here,
watching, through the windowpane, ready.


Her shadow enters and nudges them to wake.
Then she is gone again to the sky.

See more Skywatch here.
And,
more Camera Critters are here.

Walk with me

I love Tuesdays!
They're my mornings off--my mornings to get out, explore and catch up with so many places I only briefly see any other day of the week.
And today, it seemed to be a refreshed earth I was walking in--last week's rains have sprouted newness and greenness where before it had become brown and lifeless.

The phoebes are about to fledge.

Four precious faces, now barely squeezed in a cup.

I always check the floor beneath the nest as soon as I enter the doorway--so afraid I'll find one fallen. Messy little eating machines!

And, it's the mess over here that caught my eye--even messier eating machines here, too?


Four more precious faces--barn swallows, also very soon to fly. And with almost no headroom--that's cozy!



The grapes are now about the size of green grapes you'd buy in the store--but these need to ripen--to concord purple this fall.

As I came across the field, a doe stepped out in front of me, snorted and stomped twice. Immediately beside me, in the tall grass, 2 small faces peered back.

Our older, little pond, now dry, has filled with fresh, tender grass--a salad bowl for grazing.

And the thrush woods--very leafy and dense.
Down in the dry creek bed, the bee balm-- red dots amidst fresh green, minty stems.
The world seems alive again.