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It is March 2022 and time for the
Every single day, for all thirty-one days of March,
writers will share stories.
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We've been creating a whimsy tree here at Nana Poppa's house, just outside the window where Frog and Bird's play table rests. Just last week, we added another windchime - a gift from a great aunt.
There's a lot going on in this tree, and I suspect we've only just begun. There are a couple bird houses, a couple windchimes, a bright shiny whirligig of a suncatcher that sends rays of light racing through our family room. We set the Halloween pumpkin at the base of the tree and we are watching it decay. Poppa allowed me to drag our Christmas tree out here, to the base of the tree, so that we might watch the birds and squirrels hide and play within.
I love the view from inside the house. The girls can perch right at windowsill and watch the action.
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| (staged photo - it's never this calm when Frog & Bird are present! hahaha) |
Her little head filled the hole,
looked about,
looked at me,
popped back inside.
Then she popped out again
met my eyes a second time
pulled back in.
Repeat performance a few more times
then she flew out
to the top of the tree,
singing
and simultaneously - as if choreographed -
one,
two,
three,
four
mourning doves descended on the tree.
One perched on a branch very close to where I stared out -
and I was mesmerized
noticing
up close
so much more color and variation beyond the gray I would have insisted on
there's gray tan khaki white brown peach olive black
I've never noticed how narrow her head
the soft wrinkle of inexplicably short feathers at her neck
as she tilts her head from side to side
intent and wondering, this tilt
Spring is coming!
Frog and Bird and I will be watching.
