Amusements

I love to feed the birds. I love birds of all kinds and always have. This love most likely was instilled in me by my grandmother, who, when she would visit us in Richmond from Chicago, would wax amazed at the blue jays and robins that hopped around our front yard bird feeder. Our picture window in the living room let us see nature in splendor, our couch served as the viewing spot. I would sit there, with my lovely Gramma sitting next to me, and watch the birds with her. If anyone at that given moment asked me where my favorite place in the world was, it would have been right there, on the Sears and Roebuck couch, next to my most special person in the world.

So here, now, years after my sweet Gramma has gone to heaven, I carry on the tradition. Feeding birds, watching their antics and being amazed and awed by nature.

Meanwhile, there is the squirrel.

All this spring I have been working to outfox the squirrel. No, it isn't just one squirrel. There are many. But to me, the battle is against the one. The squirrel.

If anyone out there reading this knows of a real way to keep a squirrel from raiding the bird feeders in the world, please let me know. Do not tell me about the squirrel proof bird feeder. I have bought more than one and I will tell you this ... the squirrel has found her way past the proofing.

I have to admit that I am rather amused by the squirrel's antics, her ability to "figure things out" and do what comes natural -- survival at whatever cost. I'm therefore most impressed with her tenacity. She really doesn't give up until she wins. Or till it's time to go home.

I think I should take some lessons from this squirrel.

Thunderstorms

There is nothing better than a spring thunderstorm. Except maybe a summer thunderstorm.

The air, electric, ticks with energy. The sweet fragrant rain (a scientist told me that aroma we smell during a rain storm is ozone). Everything turns upward, reaching for the green.

Thunderstorms. Reflecting life in a pool of fresh water.

Happy days, June.