Having an open horizon gives one great perspective on phases of the sun and moon.
Last night the moon rose up through the “cleft” between the hills and I was annoyed I’d forgotten to check what time it would appear.
A clear evening, it would have made an impressive shot, just cresting the horizon. Curses.
No word yet from my lawn man and we are entertaining the idea of purchasing a mower that we can ride around on. Even I, in theory, ought to be able to manage that.
In the meantime, meet my lawn management team:
The pigeons and groundhogs hoover their way around indiscriminately, although the pigeons appear to be looking for instructions.
Actually, they were just affronted that I was checking on them.
(They don’t like to be photographed)
Groundhog simply charges out of his hole like a Roomba out of control.
Then the inspection committee comes out to make sure it’s all in order:
Gentle Mourning Dove and her helpers:
Mrs Dove barters for her services, taking a few seeds.
Sharing, generously with the sparrows.
How nice, if everyone got along so well.
This morning it was a different scene out there:
First of all, I did a double take when I saw a shape emerging from the vicinity of the groundhog hole. “Gosh, I thought, that one’s really orange!”
Well not really. It was just Toby, out for his morning constitutional.
A few minutes later, the cat shepherd had scooped him up and returned him to the flock.
Leaving the coast clear for the Towhee.
Then the ensuing scene developed:
Frustrated Blue jay ended up pecking at some corn, having given up ever getting a look-in on the sunflower seeds.
“You’d think they would learn to share!” said Willow, surveying the scene from the safety of the kitchen window.
Not any time soon.
He’s just frustrated because of this little chap.
Little Red can maneuver his wee body into the bird feeder where he sits like a little lord, stuffing his face, to the startlement of any approaching birds.
He’s got the whole system down pat now. Grant calls him “odd Bird”.