When I went to work a few days ago, my friend told me she had something to show me. We went out back and quietly crept around the front so I could see the momma duck who had made a nest out by their front door. We whispered and stayed a respectful distance away, since momma had been spooked before and left the nest. During one of these absences, it was discovered that she is sitting on 10 eggs.

I remember what it was like, sitting on the old nest. Was it really nearly 32 years ago that I gave birth to my first little birdie? I had 5 nesting times for 6 hatchlings.

Last year I watched a robin out on our balcony raising 3 youngsters in the confines of one little nest. At first you couldn’t even see them, but you could hear them calling out for food. Pretty soon both Mr. and Mrs. Robin were working full-time to feed their little ones. It was interesting seeing them tag team on the Feed Our Babies Project.

One day I looked out the window and realized only one little robin was left – his nest mates, mother and father, had all gone. I was determined to see him take his first flight and cleared my already-clear schedule for the day. Don’t worry, Robin – I won’t leave you alone! He kept standing up on the edge of the nest, flapping his wings experimentally, and then he’d lose courage and step back into the nest. I urged him on silently: “Go! Go! Go! You can do it!” Finally, I decided to give him an assist. While he was perched once again on the edge of the nest, I started to open the door. That was all it took – instinct took over and he went from the nest to the balcony railing and from there to the nearby tree. I was so proud. So very proud.

I could not help but remember when my own fledglings left the nest one by one, the last one just a few years ago. I’m so proud. So very proud.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I’m short on time today, so I’ll have to go for one of my back-up ideas for when I’m low on ideas and content. Gather ’round for the story about King Meanie.

Years ago, we noticed that we had a lot of squirrels in the back yard and it was quite entertaining to see them chasing each other around like siblings having a good time playing tag. But as we watched more closely, we began to see something a little more sinister happening. One of the squirrels was, in fact, a little bit of a bully. Each time a squirrel would approach the bird feeder to get some food, the bully would chase it away so he could keep the food supply for himself. We named him King Meanie. Of course, all squirrels look more or less the same, so we couldn’t always tell which one was King Meanie until he started in with his bullying.

But then something very fitting happened. We started putting out peanuts (in the shell) for the squirrels to keep them away from the bird feeder. This didn’t work, by the way – oh, how young and naive we were. King Meanie kept up his usual practice of making sure he got most of the food supply. He started looking a little ragged around the edges. Then it became clear he was losing hair. We found out that squirrels are actually not supposed to eat peanuts – it leads to hair loss. None of the other squirrels suffered this fate.

The refrain to the Gilbert and Sullivan song, “Let the Punishment Fit the Crime,” seems appropriate here:

My object all sublime
I shall achieve in time –
To let the punishment fit the crime –
The punishment fit the crime;
And make each prisoner pent
Unwillingly represent
A source of innocent merriment!
Of innocent merriment!

King Meanie was indeed the source of innocent merriment for us. I don’t think he ever repented of his wicked ways, either.

Sadly, I don’t have a photo of King Meanie in his woebegone state, but here’s another squirrel who looks just like him before he lost his hair.

Don’t you think he has somewhat of an evil glint in his eye?

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I’m becoming convinced that the more time we spend on social media, the more deranged and fractious we are becoming. How’s that for a fun way to start my blog post for today? I’m offering you something else to look at and think about today – you’re welcome.

Everywhere I look, I see more signs of the coming season of fruitfulness: the beginnings of our garden, a robin nesting, buds on branches, and some of the first leaves on our raspberry plants. These are happy, hopeful signs. Wouldn’t you rather think on these things instead of what’s being served to you on Facebook?

I would.

Today, I am thankful for all the little things, the quotidian things, and the richness of the ordinary.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning after patting myself on the back for finding a way to use the word “quotidian” in this post. It’s a beauty – a somewhat recent acquisition to my vocabulary. In terms of its delightfulness as a word, I put it right up there with “prestidigitation.”

Good morning, friends! I hope you had a lovely weekend and a true day of rest.

I captured a wild animal yesterday while out on a walk, one that I’ve stalked before. He’s small, very quick, and doth blendeth in with the surroundings according to the Maker’s design. A couple weeks ago I spotted him at this very place and stood still with my camera hoping he’d come back into view, but he’d also spotted me and made his exit, stage left. He was right to fear me, especially if tales of how I’d treated one of his illustrious forebears had made its way into chipmunk lore.

Don’t worry – no small animals were harmed in the making of this blog, nor in my own past. Back in the halcyon days of my youth, some of my siblings and I cooked up a scheme to trap a chipmunk so we could keep him as a pet. Wouldn’t you? If there were a competition for Most Attractive Rodent, the chipmunk would surely be well up there in the ranks, if not the reigning champion. Our plan was simple and elegant: we would put enticing food in a box that we could close from the side once our chippy friend had taken the bait. It didn’t take long before we had bagged our beastie in the box. This was a really exciting development for us – a scheme that actually worked! We couldn’t wait to show someone, so we went across the street where some other kids in the neighborhood lived. We cracked open the box to display our new pet and just like that, he was gone. Lessons were learned that day – the chipmunk is swift and not inclined toward being a docile pet. Oh, but it was glorious while it lasted. At least for us. Not so much for the chipmunk.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, hoping that chipmunk-kind do not hold a grudge. I still think they’re cute.

Mr. Goose and Mrs. Goose
(I guess we call her Gander)
Came for respite to a pond –
It couldn’t have been grander.

They floated quietly along
Their white cheeks sweetly matching.
The Mister shyly asked his wife,
“Will you lay eggs for hatching?”

She gracefully inclined her head,
As they glided on the water,
And he with all his goose-ish pride,
Was awfully glad he’d sought her.

And then, as if they’d trained for years
In perfect synchronization,
They lowered their heads into the pond,
Seeking food for their celebration.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, right after I come up with a better rhyme for “synchronization.” Ta ta!

But they who wait for the Lord,
Shall renew their strength.
They shall mount up with wings as eagles,
They shall run and not grow weary,
They shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31

I first heard that verse in the movie “Chariots of Fire,” back in 1981. I wasn’t a believer, but that movie had a profound effect on me for Christ. Isaiah 40:31 was one of the first verses I memorized back in those early days of faith. Even now when I think of this verse, I can see the actor who played Eric Liddell quoting it to a small crowd on the Sabbath Day that he was supposed to run in the Olympics. In the movie, he finds out at the last minute that his race is scheduled for a Sunday and decides to bow out, but in real life, he knew well ahead of time and made arrangements not to have to run on Sabbath Day. Either way, it was a principled and admirable decision, one that you can hardly imagine anyone making today. He went on to be a missionary in China and died there in a prison camp run by the invading Japanese. He has mounted up with wings as eagles; he is able to run now without growing weary.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning as I wait for the Lord.

I was thinking about robins today. They’re as common as dirt around here, so I don’t really think of them as anything particularly special. In fact, when I’m out with my camera, I’ll sometimes see a bird with a splash of color and get all excited and then when I see it’s a robin, I put the camera down. Oh, it’s just a robin.

Here’s what the Peterson Field Guild to Birds says about robins, which, by the way, are in the thrush family, along with bluebirds. Did you know that bluebirds and robins are both thrushes?

Robin: One of the most familiar of all birds, easily recognizable by its gray back and brick-red breast. …The bill is yellow. Young Robins have speckled breasts…
Voice: Song, a clear, whistled caroling, often long continued, made up of short phrases of two or three notes.
Range: (this part is too boring to repeat).

The Lynn Field Guide to Robins:
Robin, aka Harbinger of Spring. Known to be good birds in all the stories (so sayeth Peter in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe: “I’m sure a robin wouldn’t be on the wrong side”). Also known to lead people to secret gardens. According to Ben Weatherstaff, “They’re the friendliest, curiousest birds alive.”
Appearance: They don’t call him “Robin Redbreast” for nothing.
Quotes:
“Cheep – tuk, tuk, tuk,” which means in Robinese, “I see you – don’t come any closer.”
“Cheerily, cheerily, cheerily,” which translated means, “All is well; all is very well.”
Habits: If you want to find a robin’s nest, walk around by the bushes and shrubs. If a robin flies out in alarm, you have found the nest. They’re not very bright that way.
Favorite Food: Worms for breakfast, worms for lunch, worms for supper, worms to munch.

I started trying to paint robins, so that’s given me a new appreciation for their beautiful coloring. I never noticed before that there’s a white ring around their eyes. I like robins. If I ever write a story, a robin will definitely be one of the good birds.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Cheerily, cheerily, cheerily!

I’m going to tell you a heartwarming story with a happy ending.

Once upon a time there was a merry band of red raspberries. These raspberries were all bush-mates, sprung from the same group of canes in a backyard in southern-ish Minnesota. In the springtime of their lives, they were white and hard. Summer came and the warm weather and sunshine blew them up into pleasingly plump blushing red beauties. Those were happy days…until the birds and the evil raspberry beetles began their onslaught of terror. Each day the berries would look at one another, knowing that many of them might be ravaged and pecked at before the day was done. Their only hope was that the Raspberry Queen would come and gently pick them off the canes before these marauders could destroy them, leaking their lifeblood on the leaves. Just when all seemed lost, the RQ began coming every morning, basket in hand, to save the day. She greeted them with words of love: “Hello, my little darlings!” and sang a sweet raspberry picking song while she rescued them from their hopeless plight.

They were glad, yes, they were glad, when the Queen put them carefully on a large tray, one by one. They were exceedingly glad when they felt the cooling air of the freezer. When at last they were gathered into great groups and put in bags, they nestled together happily and in that delightful dark and cold place, they rested.

When the time of their resting had been fulfilled, they were resurrected to new life by being sweetened with sugar, refined with heat, and poured into jars, an ending to which all raspberries do indeed aspire.

And that’s what I did today: resurrected the raspberries to new life in jam jars. Don’t worry – I won’t let the title of Raspberry Queen go to my head.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning, whilst eating toast with raspberry jam. Yum.

My husband and I went out to a county wilderness park near here on Saturday to take advantage of the wonderful spring weather and go for a hike. We’ve been to this park a couple times – it’s always been fairly deserted, but this time the parking lot was full. I guess everyone is getting cabin fever these days with perhaps a new appreciation for the Great Outdoors.

Right away, we saw an incredible formation of birds in the sky – the whole group moving as one. I’m thankful to have this photo because as soon as I took it, the bird-cloud disappeared behind the trees. Have you ever heard of a “murmuration” of starlings? Or perhaps seen some of the fantastic videos out there of them? If not, here’s a link you can follow to see some examples of this amazing phenomenon: https://youtu.be/QOGCSBh3kmM. (You didn’t really notice the importance of this event, but that’s the first time I’ve figured out how to put a link in this blog. I’m feeling very techno-wizard about this – hope it works when I publish this post).

I’m not sure if what we saw that day was a true murmuration of starlings – it certainly wasn’t as large as the ones you’ll see if you follow that link (and PLEASE do – you won’t regret it). It’s a sight that compels you to praise God – you can’t help it. Even atheists must feel a stirring inside their starving souls when observing what God hath wrought.

And guess what? I saw the first wildflowers of spring in that park that day – glory, glory, hallelujah!

The park was full of surprises, including a denizen of the woods that was taking some repose in the hollow of a tree:

And lastly, some cheerful rocks along the trail.

All in all, a grand day out. Spring in Minnesota can be short-lived and late in coming, but it is always a joy.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Don’t forget to follow the link (is this considered nagging, a helpful reminder, or just plain harassment?).

Never before
Have I truly heard
the songs of birds.

But in a world
Of cacophonous sounds,
Obfuscations and lies,

Their sweet warblings,
Raucous cawings,
Cheery whistlings,
Glad chirpings,
Comical honkings,
And shy cheepings,

Might be the truest
And most beautiful sounds I hear all day.
They cannot lie, nor deceive.
Nor can evil be found in their mouths.

O God of my salvation,
How I long for the day
When I, too, will sing true words
Out of a true heart,
All day long and into eternity.

And what joy there will be
when the only sounds I hear
Will be the beautiful songs of the Singer.
Hallelujah!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I mentioned recently that I was adding a “Knee Score” to blog posts that I do after we’ve been on one of our Hiking Club hikes. I decided to sail through the many waters of the internet looking for images that I could use to present my Knee Score and have come up with a few possibilities. Here’s the exciting part: I’m going to let you vote on which one is your favorite and I may (or may not) use that vote to determine which one I pick. Yes, I’m sorry to say that this is not a completely democratic vote – the majority might not win the day. But I’d love to have your opinion on the choices anyway. So….here they are:

A.

B: