Spring has finally come to us after what seemed the rainiest March and April we’ve ever experienced. Through the drear we pushed onto glorious sun and sprouted veggies and finches and robins and morning doves. And even 90 degree heat this week.
I dream of someday living on a little farm. With chickens and a cow and a garden that can sprawl. I’d love a porch swing and a swimming hole, with fruit trees, grape vines, and raspberries. We’re not now looking, and I’m very content with the home God has blessed us with.
Besides when it gets right down to it, I know that I’m a little faint-hearted when it comes to critters and creatures. I’m timid even handling our guinea pigs. Still when we move onto wilder critters such as toads and mice, raccoons and foxes….Yuck!! and Squeal!! I’m pretty sure that’s part of the farm-life package on this fallen earth. On top of that, I can’t expect my kids will do all the chicken corralling and cow-milking while their own mother stands squeamishly in the background. That kinda seems like a “lead by example” kind of thing! At any rate, I would hope I could adapt and buck-up should we ever find such a plot of land. This spring I was encouraged that I gained a little in that area.
My favorite place in this whole house is my front porch, early in the morning. I love watching the fresh-risen sun with my hot cup of coffee back-dropped by the sound of birds and the sweet, heavy waft of flowers. It’s where I like to sneak away and be still with the Lord.
This is my special little place, my enclave of quiet. Yet to my dismay someone, or something else, has discovered this too…a mama robin! For the past two springs now the same bird has made roost in my honeysuckle tree. Me being the squeamish one that I am, and her being a fierce mama not about to let anyone come near her babies, I could not even bring myself to sit out there last year for fear of being dive-bombed. As soon as her babies left the nest I had Kevin take it down. I put a yellow Nerf football there to let her know there would be no more nest-building that year and that I was taking my turf back.
This spring after all the rain cleared, I was anxious to get on my porch, only to find that faithful mama had returned. For some reason I had a bit more courage this year. She seemed a tad more friendly. Afterall I’m a mama too. I understand protecting the nest and guarding your young. I’d never touch her babies. The kids enjoyed watching their amazing transformation from day to day. So as I ventured onto the porch one morning, she was away gathering breakfast. She returned and perched on the railing a mere two feet from my face as I sat perfectly still. When she suddenly a caught glimpse of me, her squawking and darting began. She peered over the roof at me as if to say, “are you STILL there?” Those were MY thoughts exactly! I sat there a bit longer, then finally left so she could feed her babies in peace.
She had two more babes still in the nest that morning. They had flown by the weekend. Once they did, I boldly dislodge the remains of their home and set it as a trophy on the front of the tree. It’s a beautiful nest–well built, and strong. It’s there for her to know that the deal in the future will be one spring hatching and then she is evicted. The rest of the summer, the porch is mine. That seems reasonable to me. And by her lack of squawking and dive-bombing, I’ll take it to mean she can live with it too.