Morning Rounds

It only took a month to finally capture a western tiger swallowtail. I’ve seen one occasionally flitting about the yard but the conditions have not yet been quite right to get a picture—until today.

The wild butterfly bush (Buddleia alternifolia) burst into bloom this past week. It took a few days before its perfume began to fill the yard and draw in the swallowtail who spent most of the day feeding from its many laden branches.

I had a couple of work zooms today and couldn’t bear to do them inside, so I brought the technology outside and sat in the shade under the deck; grateful for zoom, grateful for the deck shade. And most grateful for the trust of the bluebirds. He flew in from gathering insects in the yard and perched over my shoulder on the deer skull just outside the hole in the adobe wall where they’re nesting. In a moment, she fluttered out of the hole and joined him. They both observed me carefully; then she flew away and he remained awhile. I was entranced, and I think we were all three reassured. I’m hopeful I’ll be watching when the chicks fledge.

Where’s Wren? She’s off ahead as we enjoy an evening ramble through the elegant old junipers, exemplars of resilience.

The light was a little strange as evening settled. When we reached the top of the ridge on the way home and could see the horizon through the trees there was strong haze dimming the mountains. Maybe diffuse smoke from Canadian wildfires, maybe why some of us are suffering extra allergies—we can’t bear to stay inside but the air quality isn’t as pure as it looks at high noon. But first, we watched moonrise from our new favorite sitting log in the southern woods.

Nighthawks screeked and dove overhead as we wended our way home just as the sun went down.

Even after sunset the day’s work wasn’t done. Grasshopper mitigation continues: 24 hours after neem spray the front line seems to be holding. There were just a few grasshoppers in the raised beds throughout the day. But I’m not taking chances. There were a lot of little feral lettuces in amongst the onions. To protect them, and to remove the competition from the onions, I popped them out and planted them in the new bed where I could cover them. The cover will cool them with a little shade, and keep out marauders. I hope.

I look forward to another brand new day tomorrow.

“Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”

Thich Nhat Hanh