I was sitting quietly this morning, checking Facebook as I took the first sips of my first cup of coffee. I was quiet, that is, until suddenly Shasta started her high-pitched, excited bark, bounced out of her chair and attacked the door. Thinking she saw a fierce critter outside, like maybe a squirrel, I opened the door and both she and Bailey rushed out. Bailey rushing out is quite unique these days, so I looked to see what was causing the fuss.
Oh! Not a squirrel after all. Although I know we have coyotes in our neighborhood and often hear them during dark hours, never before have I seen one actually come into the cleared part of the yard. This is a bit blurry because I was in a hurry to capture the picture – and – it was taking a few steps forward towards the fiercely-barking Shasta instead of running off the other direction. I took the photo, then took some steps forward myself to avert what I saw as a potential issue. As I moved forward, the coyote turned and ran into the scrub. Shasta continued her frantic racing around the yard, barking at the scrub, protecting us from certain disaster. Making me a little nervous – don’t be quite so aggressive, girl!
Joined now, by a pair of Chickadees, wondering who that is on their feeder. Considering, perhaps, whether to allow such interlopers. Concerned, perhaps, whether the food supply would support the demand.
This is how most of my mornings begin. I make a diligent effort to avoid early morning appointments that would require turning into a real, public-suitable person before I have had my hour(s) in my chair, with my iPad, coffee, and feathered and furry visitors. It might be that these slow starts to the day are why not nearly as much as should be done actually gets done. Especially since once I have had lunch I consider myself off-duty. Such is the life of an aging, lazy, retired person. Would I change a thing? Probably not a lot – other than getting that yard work robot and housework elf.
While I sit here, beside my window, watching life go on outside that window, sometimes the life outside that window looks back at me.
Am I a threat? Nah, not me. I am the one who feeds you, you know? I come in peace. I am constantly amazed at these little creatures – at their perfection, their ability to survive, their instincts. I wish we could have conversations. I wish they could share their thoughts. Maybe in my next life . . .