balls of fuzz + rebirth

Yup, it's me. Haven't been on in approximately seventeen years, but I'm here. 
But Lord-willing I'll stay around this time. My picasa photo upload thingamagig wasn't cooperating with me, and now it is, so I won't question it. And what's a blog by me without pictures; it can't be done.
But during my hiatus more notebooks have been filled with words, more memory cards filled with images, and more ponderings wandering through my head just waiting to be shared, even if no one cares. So I'm back. And I plan on blowing up your feed with photos and words until you get sick of it. But hopefully not.

There is something about spring - the fresh green of a daffodil bud, the distinct smell of fresh earth, and the sound of a soaring bumblebee, mingled with the warmth of a seemingly new sun and shade of new leaves stretching to catch the gold rays. And we are ever reminded of the timeless theme of new life.

Underneath the roof of our rather beaten-looking secondhand playhouse/swingset, nestled between green plastic and a snuggly-fitted board, a nest has been formed. A while ago, we were delighted to discover that three small blue forms had taken up residence in this nest, along with a frenzied mother. She flits back and forth amid the leaves of neighboring trees and whisps of grass, searching for the perfect twigs and straw, while her eggs sit warmly in the crook of her creation.

The eggs hatched today. First a minute yellow beak, barely functioning but the first thing that moves after freedom, searching blindly for sustenance. Then blue-ish grey eyes, four times too big for the head; not open quite yet but mesmerizingly adorable just the same. There aren't many feathers - simply a few patches here and there, still moist from the previous living situation. There are two of them now - nestled together like pink pom-pom looking things, no larger than a sizeable grape. They rise their scraggly necks for seconds at a time, looking around for the mother, who is soon to return. Then they settle back into slumber, faithful in the fact that she will have food for them.

Egg number three has not yet hatched. Perhaps the miraculous creature inside will make an appearance tomorrow. And then we will watch them grow, just as we watch the flowers bloom and the littles learn and the days pass and the seasons change.
Just as life goes on.

1 comment:

  1. I was just thinking this morning how you haven't blogged in a while... Glad you're back, M. Cat


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