It is difficult to do much birdwatching when you have five children with you.
This morning while the older children were completing their math assignments, I read Moongame to L. He pointed to the mallard ducks on one of the pages and said, "These ducks Horn Pond. Need bread. Hungry. I feed them. Horn Pond, Mommy." It is hard to resist such a request. Three months ago, L did not yet put two words together. Now, he is speaking in full sentences and paragraphs. I grabbed what stale bread was in the house, and my binoculars. S got the dog's leash. Z his fishing pole. We piled into the van, the seven of us (including Buddy, the dog), and went.
I should say, right off that the bluets are in bloom. We have a special path at the pond that we call the fairy trail, and it was carpeted with the tiny four-petaled, blue-tinged, white flowers. It was magical. The woods were full of birdsong. I heard many calls that I recognized, and was privileged to see a warbling vireo and what I believe was either an Ipswich or Savannah sparrow. The turtles were out. And, Z caught a nice blue gill and a smaller pumpkin seed. We saw one of the swans sitting on its giant nest. Oh, and there was a double breasted cormorant not too far out in the water, resting on a partially submerged branch. L threw a hundred rocks (at least) into the pond. Splash, splash, splash! And, he fed his ducks.
I should have enjoyed it all more. But, I was troubled and agitated today. I should have received the blessings of the day with gladness. Instead, I nearly missed them.
