Bird watching and bird listening.
Yesterday I listened only and heard the endless warble of the house wren…dawn to after sunset…, the “birdie, birdie, birdie” of the cardinals, the whoosh of the hummingbird’s swooping, the coos of the mourning dove, the “konkaree” of the red-winged blackbird, and various cheeps of house sparrows.
I often turn my 40-minute walk into a meditative one. I watch the water as it hurtles over huge slabs of bluestone in the small creek that parallels the road, I try to ID many of the the less familiar trees and I do the same with the roadside weeds and wild flowers.
The horsechestnuts have huge flowering drupes and the blue chicory, and the wild orange day lilies are blooming together in a happy color combination. The poison ivy, in its many versions (some sneaky) is back everywhere that is not mowed. And some nasty person occasionally still dumps the nasty contents of his car ashtray out the window along with an empty beer can or two.
I wave at every car or truck that passes me (usually about 6) in the assumption that I will know many of the drivers. Almost everyone waves back, assuming that they know the woman in the sun hat and aqua sneakers plodding along who is waving at them. It’s a local country lane.