Something magic in the air!

It’s the light – the sunlight is different this morning. I don’t know how and don’t know what could have happened overnight but I went out with Nutmeg about 7:15 this morning and the air was charged with magic. Ok, so that sounds both trite and exaggerated. But I gotta tell you…

It also felt calm enough, although far from warm at about 45, to sit on the patio with coffee. So I fed the dog, made the coffee, made my toast and put on a jacket, and got back out in less than ½ hour and settled in at the patio table. That was special enough since it’s the first time I’ve sat out for breakfast and coffee since we moved here. Here’s what the magic was made of:

• Flocks of small birds moving from tree to bush to telephone wire. As they flashed through the sunlight, their wings turned translucent, with shape and form of feathers suggested as they filtered the light from the east.


• A woodpecker on a distant tree drilling for breakfast; far enough down the way to be heard as a light percussive background to the calls and trills of the songbirds nearby.


• Shadows and reflections from the rising sun as its light spilled down into our slight valley; the surrounding hills become voluptuous with the shadows’ sculpting. Shadows disappear and the hills flatten as soon as the sun looks down directly.


• And most especially, the magic was created by the lime green of the new leaves on the cottonwoods that line the stream bed – the tree canopies acting as light transformers, taking the sunlight that slanted among the leaves from the early angle and charging it so that it radiated glowing, brilliant and full of living energy.
  

By 8:30 the sun had moved enough to change the shape and energy of the light. It didn’t change the intense blue of the sky nor the brilliance of the day nor even dampen the birds’ movement and song, but the magic has dimmed for the day. Although I brought out my camera to try to capture the incredible light-torches that were the cottonwoods, I had waited a little too late.

On another note, I discovered Susan Boyle on YouTube this morning. Of course, I didn’t actually *discover* her, I just found the video. I’d read a very brief piece in the paper – even our local paper occasionally has world news worth reading – and then saw a story on Comcast’s home page. So I followed the link to the video of her win at Brittan’s version of Idol. Unbelievable. Nick heard the music and came in to watch with me. We watched her performance 3 times. If you haven’t, do…but make sure you have a handful of Kleenex ready. To imagine voices like this singing in choirs, in kitchens and on front porches all over the world: amazing grace.

And back to birds: We moved one of two birdhouses that my brother made out here with us; the other one is still in our backyard on Comus Rd. This is a two-story condominium generally designed for martins and other community-dwelling birds. It’s big and heavy and we did not install it on its post in the yard, but sat it on the corner of the patio on a sturdy plant stand. I thought it would be garden art until we move and have our own place to install it permanently. I wouldn’t believe that any bird would use it sitting so low in such a high traffic area. After all, the apartment entrances are nose-height for Nutmeg. But it’s home, now, to a titmouse – Juniper, not Tufted, for my East-coast birder friends. Gail, that’s the little guy you noticed when we sat out on the patio that Thursday afternoon! It has hung around and decided it likes the real estate. Problem is, as happened this morning, it came up with a worm in its bill while Nick, Nutmeg and I were out there. It flitted from branch to chair back—back and forth, muttering around its mouthful, but wasn’t quite willing to let us know which apartment it had chosen. When Nutmeg went to investigate this brazen little gray moving thing perched on the chair arm, it flew off to a nearby tree and voiced its displeasure loudly. We called Nutmeg, came inside, and just as I was turning to close the door behind us all, I saw it dart into its apartment door, drop the meal to the unseen resident and leave as quickly. Now, can we use our patio or do we wait until fledging? Or do we expect it to get used to us and come-and-go as if we were invisible. How to build mutually-respectful community here?

Mmm, extra lights on around the house, extra dishes drying on the countertop drainer, Nutmeg has somewhere to be rather than stuck to the back of my knee, and the sound of the blender and smell of garlic going into the making of home-made hummus ------ Nick is home, for sure and finally. He didn’t get in until Monday morning; those damned winds kept his plane grounded and kept him in Albuquerque one extra night. But he was the first off the plane at 8:30 Monday and hurried right through the airport out the front to where Nutmeg and I were waiting, both wagging…well, you can get the picture. Wishing you a magical day wherever you are