Imagine a giant heading toward you with a shovel in hand. Imagine the giant towering over your home. He sticks the spade in the ground at the edge of your house and with a firm jerk down on the handle, flicks the building up in the air. You and your family go sailing out the windows, do a spin in the air and then drop to the ground with a thump, hopefully falling on surrounding plants and three foot long weeds. Imagine the horror of it all as the giant destroys your home and tosses you out into the elements. Imagine…..
That’s what I did on Sunday to a little nest of birds. Baby birds without a hint of feathers. Transparent skin stretched over big eyes with tiny pinkish bodies. Beak open, hungry and gasping for mom. Their peaceful world disrupted; shame on me.
I’ve been beating back the tenacious weeds that dwarf the plants. My gentle perennials are no match for the territorial weeds competing for sun and soil. I’m late starting because of the foul weather we’ve had and now the push is on to plant all the annuals I bought on Friday on my way home from the airport. I wanted an early start Sunday morn but I hooked late into Saturday night so my eyes didn’t open until the eight hours minimum of rest had been met. At 11:00 it was already too hot to be outside and then noon being the highest sun in the sky I had to wait until later in the day. So by the time 4:00 rolled around I figured I’d get in a few hours before dinner and not burn to a crisp.
My technique is to stick the spade into the ground between the plants and push down hard on the handle sending the clump to expose the roots of the weeds. This loosens the ground around them nicely and then I grab the bundle and shake all the dirt out of the roots, then biff the clump of weeds into the wheelbarrow. I had done this twice and had cleared a little area and on the next dig, I pushed down hard on the handle and two rubbery looking things flew up into the air. It took a few second to understand what these little flesh colour balls were and then the horror hit. They were baby birds, newborns without wings to keep up the momentum of their projected flight so they dropped back down into the soft earth and vegetation. I fell to my knees and parted the weeds to find the little nest they had been ripped from. There was one still in the nest and his little mouth was opening and closing in a silent cry. Maybe he thought momma was there with a grub. I could hear scolding coming from the Sand Cherry tree behind me.
I rummaged around in the weeds until I found the two babies that just experienced wingless flight and scooped them gently into my gloves. My fingers would have been less clumsy but my dad used to tell me that human scent on a nest might deter the mother from coming back. So I placed the two babies back into their twig basinet, not exactly in the way momma would have arranged them but I figured she could fix things when and if she returned. I secured the nest back down in a hollow area and moved some weeds closely to camouflage the little home.
I felt a bit ill, worried sick that momma would abandon the nest and was already contemplating a trip to Hope For Wildlife if she didn’t return. I went into the house and watched from the screen door and within seconds momma flew into the thick of the weeds to find out what the heck was going on. I waited about a half hour and then went back out on the deck. She must have heard me and flew out from the area to watch me from the same tree. Perfect I thought…she can take it from here.
I checked on them this morning to find the three little babies curled up tight in the bottom of the nest, sleeping like only babies can sleep. I watched a bit to see mom flying in and out of the area so she is back in charge of her wards. So now I have to wait a few weeks before they are ready to leave the nest. The weeds will be four and five feet high by then, choking out my plants, but really, I have no recourse, anything with a heartbeat trumps a plant so these birds take dominion over my gardens. On warmer days I might work at bit of the garden on the other end, the mother can leave them a bit if she thinks I’m a threat and the babies won’t get cold. Between trying to avoid the snakes, I found the second one this morning sunning himself in the garden behind the house, and now birds, I’m going to have to get down on my hands and knees to check any area before I stick my shovel in. Even when I occasionally cut an earth worm in half I feel sick to my stomach, but I handle that by pretending they can grow a new tail.
So that was the end of the yard work on Sunday so I took up hooking for the rest of the day. Sitting out on the back deck enjoying the beautiful day with my pups. Boats were going out and coming in, birds were chirping and the guy next door was mowing his lawn. Oh, the smell of freshly cut grass….all positive signs that winter has finally retreated...
So I finished my "P". I'm not as happy as I could be. I think if I were to do it over again, I would lightly dye the background the softest pink or lavender. The ivory herringbone with small flecks of colour doesn't really show that well. I considered tearing it out but then thought, there are other letters to hook, I can do another one with a similar palette with a dyed background. Why go back.....just march ahead! At some point I'm going to have to stop and sew these initials into pillows...but where's the fun in that?
That’s what I did on Sunday to a little nest of birds. Baby birds without a hint of feathers. Transparent skin stretched over big eyes with tiny pinkish bodies. Beak open, hungry and gasping for mom. Their peaceful world disrupted; shame on me.
I’ve been beating back the tenacious weeds that dwarf the plants. My gentle perennials are no match for the territorial weeds competing for sun and soil. I’m late starting because of the foul weather we’ve had and now the push is on to plant all the annuals I bought on Friday on my way home from the airport. I wanted an early start Sunday morn but I hooked late into Saturday night so my eyes didn’t open until the eight hours minimum of rest had been met. At 11:00 it was already too hot to be outside and then noon being the highest sun in the sky I had to wait until later in the day. So by the time 4:00 rolled around I figured I’d get in a few hours before dinner and not burn to a crisp.
My technique is to stick the spade into the ground between the plants and push down hard on the handle sending the clump to expose the roots of the weeds. This loosens the ground around them nicely and then I grab the bundle and shake all the dirt out of the roots, then biff the clump of weeds into the wheelbarrow. I had done this twice and had cleared a little area and on the next dig, I pushed down hard on the handle and two rubbery looking things flew up into the air. It took a few second to understand what these little flesh colour balls were and then the horror hit. They were baby birds, newborns without wings to keep up the momentum of their projected flight so they dropped back down into the soft earth and vegetation. I fell to my knees and parted the weeds to find the little nest they had been ripped from. There was one still in the nest and his little mouth was opening and closing in a silent cry. Maybe he thought momma was there with a grub. I could hear scolding coming from the Sand Cherry tree behind me.
I rummaged around in the weeds until I found the two babies that just experienced wingless flight and scooped them gently into my gloves. My fingers would have been less clumsy but my dad used to tell me that human scent on a nest might deter the mother from coming back. So I placed the two babies back into their twig basinet, not exactly in the way momma would have arranged them but I figured she could fix things when and if she returned. I secured the nest back down in a hollow area and moved some weeds closely to camouflage the little home.
I felt a bit ill, worried sick that momma would abandon the nest and was already contemplating a trip to Hope For Wildlife if she didn’t return. I went into the house and watched from the screen door and within seconds momma flew into the thick of the weeds to find out what the heck was going on. I waited about a half hour and then went back out on the deck. She must have heard me and flew out from the area to watch me from the same tree. Perfect I thought…she can take it from here.
I checked on them this morning to find the three little babies curled up tight in the bottom of the nest, sleeping like only babies can sleep. I watched a bit to see mom flying in and out of the area so she is back in charge of her wards. So now I have to wait a few weeks before they are ready to leave the nest. The weeds will be four and five feet high by then, choking out my plants, but really, I have no recourse, anything with a heartbeat trumps a plant so these birds take dominion over my gardens. On warmer days I might work at bit of the garden on the other end, the mother can leave them a bit if she thinks I’m a threat and the babies won’t get cold. Between trying to avoid the snakes, I found the second one this morning sunning himself in the garden behind the house, and now birds, I’m going to have to get down on my hands and knees to check any area before I stick my shovel in. Even when I occasionally cut an earth worm in half I feel sick to my stomach, but I handle that by pretending they can grow a new tail.
So that was the end of the yard work on Sunday so I took up hooking for the rest of the day. Sitting out on the back deck enjoying the beautiful day with my pups. Boats were going out and coming in, birds were chirping and the guy next door was mowing his lawn. Oh, the smell of freshly cut grass….all positive signs that winter has finally retreated...
So I finished my "P". I'm not as happy as I could be. I think if I were to do it over again, I would lightly dye the background the softest pink or lavender. The ivory herringbone with small flecks of colour doesn't really show that well. I considered tearing it out but then thought, there are other letters to hook, I can do another one with a similar palette with a dyed background. Why go back.....just march ahead! At some point I'm going to have to stop and sew these initials into pillows...but where's the fun in that?
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