There’s a low lying tree just outside my outdoor shower – which is up the hill, near my garden and art studio. Well, what WAS my art studio before it was converted into a bedroom with a view of lake and mountains. Because it’s a quiet summer here, no one uses that space or the outdoor shower. No one is passing the “privacy tree”.
A wise bird noticed the wide open arms of the tree – an evergreen. It’s the perfect location for a nest: good support from the tree limbs and a covering of evergreen to hide the baby birds. I hadn’t thought of when I passed by.
FMPF! A bird flies away so close to me. And there – there in the nest is this clump of fuzz atop an egg shell – or more eggs. I jumped back as I heard the mother bird squawking in alarm in a nearby tree.
This morning when I came out the door, Peaches shot up the hill. Normally, I think, NO! Come back! But early in the morning: I get it’s deer. Go get them Peaches!
What I want to keep/protect. What I want to keep away. I think it’s so clear. But I only get a sense of this after the fact – after I’ve seen the chick. Or after Peaches has raced up the hill.
But when I hike with Peaches, we meet different people along the trail, and there are a few that we overlap with time and again. Peaches will sense a newcomer long before I can hear or see them. You can see her manner change – she’s no longer sniffing and exploring, she has heightened attention. And the friends, she senses them too, but she’s easy She eagerly anticipates Pemi long before we see that pup.
There’s another area that I walk that relatively few people visit. The trail into it starts right beside a busy highway – I passed it by many times before I stopped the first time. Often, I see no one there.
So one day, Peaches and I are walking along, when a guy and his pup come barreling over the hill – not even on the trail. I’m surprised that Peaches is so calm about both his unexpected appearance. And his pup, who she greets with glee.
The guy does not look like your typical trail walker. He’s large and moves with a kind of an uneven ambling wide walk. I ask him where he’s coming from? He says. “I love these woods. There are so many wonderful parts.”
I’d forgotten that I’d seen him last spring (I didn’t come in the deep snow of winter) and he had forgotten me too. But now I recall this as he talks about sitting by the pond and listening to the croakers, and all the ways he roves around and explores. He goes on to say his pup was the reason he found this place. And like his sweet pup, he’s everywhere.
He strides away, and I’m left looking at all the parts of the woods that DO look inviting.
A baby bird? A man with childlike wonder. Who knows when I’ll be caught off guard.
At which moment the whole place seems to shift.
Surprise!
Magic moments
