I apologize for being a bit absent lately. The past few weeks have been… challenging. My scoliosis is getting worse and I’ve developed pain along the bottom ridge of my right ribcage that has been stubbornly refusing to get better. Just before the pandemic, I had a spinal x-ray taken that diagnosed my spine as a collapsing S-curve and what’s happening is that I’ve twisted so that my bottom right ribs are rubbing on the upper edge of my pelvis. Normally, I see my pain specialist every 3 – 4 weeks for injections along both sides of my entire spine, but I haven’t been since early February because of the pandemic, and, well, I waited a bit too long. Finally, late last week, I donned my mask and went to see my Dr. in the big city down the road and today I’m feeling a bit more human.
Jack and I even managed to get out to our wee little forest for a walk, today. We went slowly and watched the fairies flit for a while and then we paid a short visit to Gnorman, who was out plowing with a team of voles. The trio joined us for a cold drink of water before getting back to their work. It was a most pleasant day filled with the cheerful, company of friends, glorious sunshine and the quiet beauty of our native woodlands. It even came with a pretty reminder to stay safe and wash our hands… lots.
This week’s Andrew Lang fairy book is the second to last book of the series and it’s filled with whimsy and charm. There are dragons and serpents, oxen and camel, spiders and lots and lots of birds. I’ve included all the full-page drawings because each of them spoke to me in one way or another.
via: The Internet Archive
There’s a robin’s nest in the eaves over my front porch, and I haven’t got the heart to evict them. Instead, I provide them with a birdbath and a regular supply of mealworms. In return, they’re cheerful to have around and provide me with lots of pleasant chirping and peeping and poop. I could do without the poop, but it’s a package deal, so I try not to grumble about the mess. It cleans up quickly enough with the hose.
This morning I heard one of the young birds making a fuss, so I went to the door expecting to see one of the parents out hunting in the yard. Instead, I found this little fellow sitting on the arm of my wicker rocking chair, looking a bit dazed and confused about what to do next. I watched him for about 20 minutes from inside the house as he quietly looked all around, trying to process this new perspective on the world. He spread his wings a few times, and I could see he had his flight feathers but hadn’t quite figured out how to use them. His mama was watching over him from a nearby tree, so I shut the door and walked away from it, hoping that mama would feel safe enough to come to his aid. Over the next 2 hours, I checked on him from the window, and the only thing that happened was that he took a nap. That seemed like a good opportunity to sneak out the side door with my camera, and I took a few snapshots through the railing before leaving him to the care of his still hovering mama. The next time I went to the window to check on him, he was gone. Bye, Bye, Birdie. Thanks for cheering me up 0n day eleventy-seven of the pandemic.
This week I’m sharing a fascinating close-up look at something that most of us view from a distance. It’s a photo essay by Springa73, documenting the progress of a Red Maple between March and late May. The red maples in my neighbourhood are large and stately, but I’ve never stopped to notice how beautiful their many stages are.
Over the past couple of months, I have been taking photos of the developing buds, flowers, seeds, and leaves of a red maple tree (Acer rubrum) in my yard. I thought that they might be of some interest to Affinity readers. They show the budding out of the tiny red flowers on the red maple tree, then the development of the winged seeds as the leaves bud out and develop in their turn.
Last week we saw this fuzzy clutch of cygnets all huddled together in the nest. Today we get to see them venture forth and go for a swim. Thanks to Anne, Cranky Cat Lady and her daughter Emily Davis for sharing them with us.