I’ve walked a mile to the creek approximately 167 times since we moved to NC. I’m sure I’ve seen at least one new thing on every walk. Today I was enjoying the lovely sound of water rushing over rocks when I noticed a bottle hanging from the bridge. It was swaying lifelessly in the breeze from its invisible tether. Curiosity compelled me to go on the bridge where I found a fine nylon string tied to a reflector. The lynching of the bottle was a deliberate thing. My questions are, “Why? What did that bottle do to deserve such an untimely end? Will it be left for weeks as a warning to other bottles?”
I stop to speak to the four sheep and a new lamb whenever they are close enough to the road to hear me. I checked twice and saw only four animals. Walking on, I saw the fifth in the next pasture. The lamb bleated, and the sheep I was looking at stopped eating and shouted bah-aack. I’m wondering if the lamb is being weaned.
My mother loved the pileated woodpecker she saw in the thicket behind our house in West Tennessee. I suspect she identified with it, being reserved and reclusive herself. Once she pointed it out to me when I happened to be standing next to her at the back of the property. Fast forward 60 years, and I had a clear sighting on our own post. John and I were eating breakfast inside when I saw the large bird land on the wooden fence. He checked out several sections before I scared him away trying to get his picture. Come to think of it, our family resembles that bird. Our son $ is as camera shy as the woodpecker.