"On the plains of Oklahoma, with a windshield sunset in your eyes like a watercolor painted sky, you'd think heavens doors have opened."
Fly Over States



Saturday, October 16, 2010

Creatures of the Dawn


A couple of nights, ago, I was up late organizing my Kindle and the girls woke me up well before the sun, the next morning.  Because the weather was so nice and warm, I decided to skip any attempts to stay under the covers.  I walked out in the yard and decided to stomp around (to build up my bones!).  I walked towards the back of the backyard and the instant I reached the point in the yard where the glare from the barn light was no longer in my eyes, I glanced up and literally gasped.  The Milky Way leaped out of the sky.  I stood and absorbed it for a few minutes. 

Life will beat you down and rob you of your joy.  Between the stress of making a living, raising children, the loss of family from age, accident and disease, bills, heartbreak, fear, uncertainty, insecurity, failure, who you are just seems to get smaller and smaller.  Moments like gazing at the Milky Way build you back.  It puts the energy back. 

Mimi and I spent Friday at the Oklahoma City Zoo.  We've been doing that for forty years.

Baby Harp Seal:










 Monarch:









 Mimi:
I got some terrific photos from the birdcam over the last couple of days:

This is NOT a bluebird!:
This morning, I work up early (per usual).  For the first time since we moved here, I felt a sense of unease as I sat on the patio in the dark.  I chided myself for being fanciful.   After a few minutes, a large bird swooped low across the yard, startling me.  It silently glided towards the barn and landed on the roof.  The sun was just lightening the eastern sky and I could see its silhouette.  It almost looked like a hawk and appeared to be about one and a half feet tall.  I hoped it would stay there long enough to be able to see the its colors when the sun rose but just about the time light started creeping towards the barn, it flew away.
But like I said, I had a sense of unease.  I got up to refresh my coffee then went back to the patio.  I heard an owl screech, twice.  I think it was two birds, one answering the other.  About that time, the neighbor's dogs began shrieking.  They have a kennel on the other side of our barn.   Sometimes they bark, but rarely in the morning and I hadn't heard them sound that upset, before.   My girls usually ignore them but this morning, they went on high alert. 
 

 After a minute, Pearl began a low pitched bark and ran to the edge of the yard, closest to the neighbor's house. Evelyn stayed back with me, the coward. Pearl continued to growl and then all the dogs, including Pearl, went silent. It was just odd. I could see Evelyn listening, nostrils flaring and quivering. I started to walk over to Pearl to get her to come closer to the house but before I got there, I heard a metallic thunk that sounded like something had bumped the far side of the barn. I had an idle thought that someone could be breaking into the barn (or climbing out) but decided that if anyone had that idea, the barking dogs probably scared them off. I also wondered if perhaps a coyote had been around but I doubt they'd run into the barn.


 I decided to just come on inside until the sun rose.



 When I mentioned all this to Husband, he asked me why I hadn't gotten my gun. 

My gun?  Never crossed my mind.  That is for target practice.  I doubt anyone was going to give me any trouble in my own backyard at 6:00 in the morning.  On the other hand, when Husband went out to the barn after dark to go work on something, this evening, I kind of wish he'd taken a gun with him... 

I meant to take a good look around the barn, today, to see if anything looked disturbed but forgot about it.  It was probably nothing. 

I hate any sense of unease invading my little piece of paradise. 

But all is well and I honestly think that if anyone wanted to cause trouble, they would think better of it when they tripped the dog kennel alarm. 

Happy Quilting, Penny, Evelyn and Pearl

2 comments:

Florida Farm Girl said...

Sounds like you have an owl visiting the neighborhood. Are there any openings in the barn which could provide entry for a roost, hence the metallic thump?

And, girlfriend, I don't know how you do it, but you got it just right in your description of getting beaten down by life and then rebuilt by the beauty of the great outdoors.

Lady Beekeeper said...

An owl would have to come into the barn during the day when the bay doors are open, or at night while someone was there because we keep it shut, otherwise. It has a second floor so even when the doors are open, a bird would have to swoop low to come into the door. I am sure we've had birds in there but I don't recall ever seeing one and I think that is why.