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In the winter, I pad my way into my office, often before the sun comes up, and start my day with a poem, a reflection, a bit of writing. But now, as summer sneaks up on spring, the sun almost always beats me to rise. I still wake early, but now I share my first cup of coffee with my backyard friends.
This morning the fog was rising as I filled the feeders. I settled down, warmed my hands with the steaming mug, and waited. First to arrive was a grackle. I admired his iridescent feathers and yellow-ringed eye, but his large body seemed out of place on the feeder. I must admit I was glad when he left, and the bluebirds took his place. Their babies have fledged, but they are still backyard residents and may be starting a new brood. Next to arrive was a woodpecker, followed by a few finches, Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal, and a jay. The tree swallows don’t visit the feeders, but they said good morning from the roof of their nesting house, content to stay guarding their eggs.
This season there is a large contingent of wrens in residence. Right now they are occupying two of the houses, and one couple has built a nest on top of the exposed insulation inside the garage. We are learning to share space.
In a time when each day blends into the next, I’m glad for this change in routine, conversing with friends of the feathered variety.