24 June 2005
Let's not call it treehugging
I'm not complaining about the tree, though; it's quite lovely, and after an indifferent 2004 it's come back very strong this year, reaching a height of about nine feet on its way to the sky.
After entirely too long a workday, I wasn't up to mowing the entire yard, so I decided to do the worst two-thirds this evening and save the rest for some unspecified future time. In making the turn by the back fence, I knocked loose a few dozen blossoms from the chaste tree; from a distance, the spillage looked like a nice blue puddle. And if there's one thing birds in this neighborhood love, it's a freshly-mowed lawn, or even two-thirds of one, so the moment I parked the mower, one of the resident robins dropped into the pile of blossoms to investigate. Within twenty seconds, there was a second and a third; a fourth followed quickly. From the far north, or at least north of the back fence, a blue jay ventured into the zone, but the robins weren't in any mood for guests and dispatched the intruder forthwith. A second jay, perched on the gas meter, decided he wasn't going to wait around for the same treatment, and departed. Last year the jays ruled this yard, but once they abandoned their nest (in one of the twin sweetgum trees near the back door), they fell victim to regime change.
(Yes, I have a lot of trees. One of the reasons I live here.)Posted at 7:06 PM to Surlywood