Mondays

Good morning everyone!

I may have already had a full Monday type Monday morning (you know, the type where everything is discombobulated around you, none of the material you need for everyone to get out of the house in an orderly fashion such as notes for school, book bags, and other such paraphernalia was in the right place, including the precious doctor’s note explaining that Kayla missed Friday at school because she was running a fever and you end up slamming cupboard and closet doors – at least they’re closed!  See, On Cupboard Doors and Closet Shelves ), but the birds outside are completely oblivious.

In the trees at the edge of the court, there is a symphony of song birds greeting the sun.  (I’d be greeting it, too, if I had to sleep outdoors last night; it got down in the 20’s!)  The volume of sound is really astonishing, and if I had more time and it was about 40 more degrees warmer, I’d love to sit down and just listen for a while.

There even is one brave bird sitting on the fence chirping at intermittent intervals.  I think he or she is part of the brave family of birds that nests in the huge rosebush in the back.  Most of the hatchlings, at least three, didn’t make it three years ago, because Mandy and Darwin found them, thought they were really interesting chew toys that squeaked, and Kayla and I couldn’t get out there in time.  After one more year of growth, though, the rose bush was out of the dogs’ reach and some member of the same family (I assume) comes back every year to build its nest.  I really wonder if the principles of natural selection shouldn’t weed this family out (after all, building your nest in the middle of a yard with three dogs who are very interested in sounds, sights and smells is not the safest place) but I’m glad those principles haven’t done so so far.  I like the idea of the sheer stubbornness it takes to come back to a place to claim it as your own even after someone much bigger and larger has tried to chase you away from it.  Now, of course, with the bigger rose bush with corresponding bigger thorns and better height, I believe the nest will be quite safe.

Is there a moral there somewhere?  Probably, but I’m too busy hunting my shoes and my cell phone so I can get out of the door to think through it more deeply – maybe you can come up with one?

Have a great Monday, everyone, or at least a better one than I am having so far!

Nancy