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Favorite Sounds

Rain pattering on the sky window,

The muffled quiet of falling snow.

Crickets and frogs in the cool of a fading fall evening.

Thunder in the distance.

The wind mourning a path around the eaves of the house while our wood fire snaps and crackles.

 A song sparrow announcing the rising sun of the early summer day break.

Owls calling to each other through the trees.

The stuttered purr of a contented cat.

A haunting train whistle in the valley while I snuggle beneath the blankets.

A red-winged blackbird, from his perch on a cattail, announcing his territory during mating season. 

Children giggling with pure delight,

The laughter of a stream tickling the rocks! 

The constant farewell of the ocean as it waves goodbye to the deep.

...............What are your favorite sounds?

Stop and smell the ... Blackbird

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We often forget how much beauty there is to behold in a common Brewer's Blackbird.

Conversations ... with Greats, Grands, and even myself

In chronological reverse order with most recent starting today!
3 1/2 year-old Squeaker Squeaker:  Mom, will you  hand me the remote? Mom:It's sitting right next to you on the couch. Squeaker, following hysterical laughter:  Mama!  I tricked myself.

Great Auntie Fern, who will be 107 in April. The past year she is often lost in time. Occasionally her true self and humor will pop out when you least expect it. Yesterday at her medical check-up the Doctor determined that one ear needed to be flushed of  the excess wax build up. She had had some moments of clarity but was mostly unable to hear what was being said and was generally confused about where she was and what was happening.. As though waking suddenly, she turned and looked at the Doctor with her one eye and chortled,"Oh MY!" . Fern gestured at the little bucket the nurse held under her ear and exclaimed with delight,  " Looks like soup for supper" Fern then lead the laughter ................

8-year old Dinkum:
Last…

Nature's Winterfest

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I took a short walk up the creek in the cold.  My attention was drawn to a song sparrow flitting down to hide in the wintry browns speckled with snow along the water's edge. That is where I spotted the little dead plant hooked on a rock mid stream, growing an ice sculpture off the splashing current.

It was probably 12 inches across and I wondered if it would continue to build   Or, will the dancing rill eventually shake its delicate art free and send it downstream.  









Goodbye 2015

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Sharing The Digs

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In the summertime the air is filled with Bank Swallows that have burrowed nests into the walls of an old gravel pit near the river.  I've always thought that winter would be so lonely there.



I thought wrong.  This year the cavities are the winter homes of Gray-crowned Rosy Finch.





At dusk they all gather to fight over the holes ...



and find refuge and shelter in the condominium that the swallows left behind for the warmer climes.


Migration - Spring 2015

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It's been forever since I visited my blog.  Hi there.