A Voice from the Yard

Lately I feel as though I am running on the hamster’s wheel. When I am home, I am preparing for schools. If I am not at home, I am in a school working with teachers. There is no time in-between to sit back, relax, and enjoy the season. This doesn’t make for an interesting slice of life episode. So, this week I have taken on a persona of an inanimate object I can view from the window of my office: the pansies below the maple tree.
We are suffocating, does no one care? A few weeks ago we were plucked from the only home we’ve ever known (a black plastic box) and deposited under this tree. Life was great! What a view of all the comings and goings of the neighborhood. We’ve put down roots and just started to get comfortable when leaves began to fall. At first we thought, “These leaves are so pretty, maybe they will give us some warmth for the frosty nights.” A few are fine, but come on, this is ridiculous! No one can see how pretty we are. Everyone is talking about the colors in the leaves. Don’t they see how cute we are? We’ve got pretty colors too. Who will do something about this?
Vroom, vroom, what’s that? A leaf blower? No, it’s a leaf vacuum! We are saved! That amazing tool has devoured all the leaves and now we are back in our rightful place of being admired for our pretty colors.
The world thinks we are fragile, but actually we are  very hardy. We will watch the neighborhood through all forms of weather. Blooms will vanish when the flakes fly, but they will be back when the winds warm the air in the spring.

If Hummingbirds Could Talk

Who doesn’t love hummingbirds? They provide me with endless entertainment during the summer season. Their feeder is perfectly positioned so I can observe them as I cook dinner, read, or watch TV.

They zip, zoom, dive, dart with the ease of the most accomplished aerial acrobats. They come flying in with attitude and I can just imagine the conversations they might have.

“Get out of the way, this is MY feeder!” as he barrels in shoving others off.

“What makes you think you’re the boss of this feeder, you don’t scare me!”

“This is mine!”

“No, it’s mine, find another feeder.”

“Quick, I can get a sip before that bossy fellow gets back.”

“Do you want to share?”

“Which hole has the best flavor?”

“What? Where’s the juice? Who drank all the juice?”

They hover around the window, watching and wondering when the feeder will return.

There is one who has been named King. He sits perched on the top of the holder surveying the yard before him. He is ready to defend his territory should anyone be brave enough to challenge him.

Like I said, they are very entertaining, especially when you hear their voices in your head.