A few moments in an ordinary day

On our way home from the doctor, PG spotted a blue heron flying above us, I'll guess about 20 feet off the ground.  Its speed and ours were close enough, and the road was clear ahead and behind us, so I got a few seconds of its grace.  

We reached an intersection with a stop light, and the bird continued over the road, descending quickly and landing on a patch of grass just outside an area that was left unmown most of the year.  Both PG and I got one last glimpse of the heron on the ground after the light turned green and we continued on our way.

My day

I walked out to the back yard about mid-morning on a sunny, warm September day.  This is what I saw:  in the bird garden, I pulled a foot-high dandelion and found some hedge bindweed had begun climbing up the stem. . . a couple dozen tiny brown butterflies swarming across the sedum. . . frantic squawking of a blue jay from the neighbor's yard, and seconds later, I spotted a red-tailed hawk gaining altitude and flying in lazy circles above the houses. . . the volunteer arbor vitae in a pot that I moved into a sunnier area has grown until its top is above the top edge of the pot; maybe it can be transplanted into the spot in front of the garage where the original bush died. . . and the resurrected crape myrtle that is flowering right next to one of the three plants planted last year as part of the landscaping makeover.  Can it be dug up without damaging the roots to the point where it can't survive transplanting?  

One Extended Moment

Before we went out for bird seed and one or two other things at Walmart, I locked the front door.  From there, I could see two robins in the yard across the street.  I had read that the temperature reached 80 degrees in Washington D.C. yesterday, although it had been 30 degrees cooler north of Philadelphia.  At least two birds took the unseasonable warmth as their cue to head north.  They were too far away to photograph, as if they were any different from any other robins on the continent.  But either they're very smart, and they know something about the upcoming weather that I don't know, or life is going to be mighty difficult for them over the next couple of months.  

However, when I pulled into a parking spot at Walmart, this sparrow was much closer, in the cart corral just past the hood.  Unlike the birds who frequent our back yard feeders, this one doesn't fly away at the sight of a human.  I had several seconds to unpocket the phone, enter the unlock code, call up the camera app, and set up the shot, then take three pictures.  

----------------------------------------

Girl Scout cookie sellers at Walmart and at Tractor Supply just down the road.  No thanks, I can live without it.  I made cinnamon buns this morning.

--------------------------

Took the broken-down boxes from the basement to the township yard waste site and plopped them in the cardboard recycling dumpster.  More physical activity than I've had in many a moon, but at least I'm not broken down.  And the basement now has more space than it has had in years.

-------------------------

"On The Town" on the TiVo.  I can take or leave the dancing, and shrug at the songs and the story.  But those 35mm Technicolor views of late-1940's Manhattan make me reach for the pause button every time.  Somewhere someone has a website with a detailed list of the billboards in Times Square, and I wish I could find it.  Muttering, "... in the 30's it was Planters Peanuts, Chevrolet, and Coca-Cola.  Then in the early 40's it was Four Roses/Kinsey whiskey, Ruppert beer, and Pepsi-Cola.  After that, Canadian Club whiskey and Admiral TV and appliances from the mid-50's to the mid-60's... after that, who cares..."  

An unexpected happy ending

Not going to Write this story.  Just notes.  I could Write it, but it wouldn't be good.

Wednesday, May 31.  Suppertime.  A noise from the front of the house.  Sounded like something hitting the glass of the storm door.  Went to check, hoping to be wrong.  Found a small brown bird, maybe a young finch, lying on its side motionless on the sidewalk.  

Happened days earlier with a young robin, but the robin was on its feet and moving.  Expected that bird to fly away after it got over the impact.  Not this one.  

Back to the table, but back to the front door minutes later.  Bird hadn't moved.

Talked about it with PG.  Got a paper towel, intending to place the bird on the landscaped side of the house, where nature would take its course.

Unlocked storm door, and at that noise, the bird suddenly got to its feet, but didn't fly away.  It stayed in that position through one or two more follow-up checks.  Finally, near sunset, one last check, and the bird was no longer there.