Joy, Illimited...

Dear Maria,

Decided to dash off a letter to you in between a list of chores. I know, of course I could spread them out over a few days, but sometimes I get to leaning forward and gather enough momentum to seem busy.

Did set the bluebird house on a pole that I told you about last week. Gave the obligatory speech on how great odds were against any kind of action this season and that even next spring was a longshot for a couple-in-residence.

So? Two mornings later I was waiting for a delivery of three crape myrtles, and while I mostly stared off into the sky, out the corner of my eye I saw a bird streak up into the neighbor’s tree. Yep, a young male bluebird. Then a finch came in, followed closely by a young female bluebird. Those two bluebirds were the first I have seen at that location all season. In my mind, of course, I was convinced the bluebird pair were eyeing the new bird condo.

Late that afternoon, as I took a break after getting the Dynamite crape settled into the ground, the male went to the roof of the house and made a quick survey of the terrain, and then the female flew over and took a quick peek inside. This moment for me capped an hour of digging, and watching an infant on her blanket find her way to a game of peek-a-boo, and laughing as a two-year-old dragged over a level nearly as long as he is tall.

The sky was a high, clear expanse of blue, the sun was warm, and for a stretch, life was a joy to experience. You know I am stingy with words like joy and happiness, but even I succumbed to a feeling “of joy illimited”. The moment was more skylark than thrush, but Hardy’s phrase wins out.

Okay, I am enthusing about birds and kids and trees. Good stuff. There’s my more typical restraint. Better? Colder weather on the way this weekend apparently and before long, less and less to do in the yard as the days get shorter.

Maybe I’ll wax on about scotch and books and boats next time. Until then, may some joy come your way.

Just, for now, srk