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FEATHERED PARACHUTES FLOATING DOWN ©By Russ






From where I sit on the porch I can see so many things. Em’s duck has found the new grape vine and stripped it of its leaves. It’s just a gnarled twig now, poking up out of the ground. And it will be awhile before I can get down into the yard to save it from ruin. Being hampered by crutches doesn’t stop me from seeing the world around me, but it does limit my ability to interact. The black bamboo has taken off as a result of this year's heavy rains, to fill a bare portion of the yard. Twin variegated roses, pink, orange, and yellow flank a bush of solid white. And the frost-killed jasmine bravely sends tiny green tendrils out, to begin the long climb up the trellis once again. Black birds drop like feathered parachutes to invade our yard. And walk stiff-legged looking this way and that, along the serving line that runs between dog’s dish, cat's dish and the feeders, picking at some of this and some of that, as if it were the all-you- can-eat smorgasbord in town. With mouths stuffed to overflowing, they head back in steady streams to feed their nesting young. A gray squirrel stretches out on hind legs from an oak limb to reach into the cherry tree. And while hanging thus, gorges on the not quite ripe abundance of fruit which bends the branches low. Gross-beak babies still in nests unseen call in a soft but insistant voice for food. And I sit a moment longer in quiet appreciation of all that is wonderful here in my world, before I need go back into the cabin again.
Russ





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