bluebird perched on bird feeder hanger
Photo by J. Harrington
|
I haven't taken a peek to see if anyone is nesting in the box we have in front of the house. That might be a fun thing to do tomorrow. We have had some other cavity-nesting bird use the front house, but I'm not sure what nondescript, brownish bird it was. I'm pretty sure it wasn't any kind of sparrow. Meanwhile, today I still have to finish putting away some tools, add the left over dirt to the compost tumbler, and mow where the tumbler used to sit before the bear knocked it over a couple of days ago. With luck, I'll get these chores finished without being harassed by any more insects like the green bottle fly, or was it a sweat bee, that landed on my hand and behind my ear while walking SiSi earlier today.
Then, I think it may be time to do some pleasurable work in the air-conditioned house, like organizing fly rods and reels and putting a new fly line on a rod we haven't fished nearly enough since we got it. It's once again breezy enough that accurately casting a fly to a trout would be aggravating, so we prepare for better days.
I’m tired of the gloom
In a four-walled room;
Heart-weary, I sigh
For the open sky,
And the solitude
Of the greening wood;
Where the bluebirds call,
And the sunbeams fall,
And the daisies lure
The soul to be pure.
I’m tired of the life
In the ways of strife;
Heart-weary, I long
For the river’s song,
And the murmur of rills
In the breezy hills;
Where the pipe of Pan—
The hairy half-man—
The bright silence breaks
By the sleeping lakes.
********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
No comments:
Post a Comment