Dear diary...it's the beginning
of July 2022 when down our
narrow path I meander to
ramshackle lean-to, with its
window panes now spent;
collapsed due to winter's
unforgiving bracing winds.
It's late afternoon when finding
myself way back in the eaves
where it's cooler, out of sun's
rays as I sit and read, suddenly
realizing I'm not the only one
unexpected movement up in the
rafters draws my attention of snug
nest, a spiral that's mixed intricately
flawless; I'm spellbound marveling at
this assembled shelter.
Jenny Wren flies in, perches on edge
of chair, aware of my stare, yet unafraid...
though a little shy. Thrilled at what I'm
seeing, taken sixty eight years to
experience such closeness of nature.
This little bird tilting head; questioning
danger without chirping, pauses briefly –
tail lifted bobbing head, then becomes
airborne in search of insects,
still within baby chicks stir, I'm consumed
by this wonder; keeping very still and quiet,
wildest hearts would melt enjoying these
moments half hidden; a private embrace
life stirring will eventually be free
to fly at will; this passing pleasure
entrusted to us. Wholeheartedly
I sit open minded as summer
consumes energy, while in this
season's rhythm chicks will
Pixabay free image.