Since I stayed a few minutes, I began to think about how the hurricane, a little more than a couple of years ago, beat the living daylights out of the trees. And how that pine stump used to be a massive pine literally a foot from the porch directly in line with the wind…if forethought had not cut it down. That storm circled around the house, and I stood on that porch and watched it bend an incredible cedar as far as it could bend it without the cedar giving up. And I watched my roses, of no pedigree except that Dad put them there, hug the posts from that terrible wind. Why was I standing on the porch? Because the person that I take care of would not leave, and I could not leave that someone. So, I was there just knowing that the last few roses of the season would be gone, that bud and rose in full bloom. But that is not what happened at all. After all the hurricane gave, the roses hung on. It was too hot to stay inside because the electricity had been knocked out. So I welcomed the wicked cooling wind that accelerated the aging of my roses. After hours, at the close of the storm, the bud had blossomed into a full beauty, and the full bloom had aged into weathered edges wilting face downward. Impressive that just around the corner of the house it took out another huge cedar that demolished the garage, but the two roses under the eaves made it.The analogies for this small story could be endless I suppose. But if you have weathered a storm or two then you need no analogy, and if you haven’t been in a “storm” yet….. well I hope that when you do the lessons learned are easy. It reminds me of the doctor that sliced open my finger to remove a growth. The anesthetic hadn’t kicked in all the way yet, but I was too shy at 16 to say a word. Owie!! As he razored my skin, he said that he hoped this was the worst thing that I would ever know in life. I remember thinking ….me too and if you only knew. I was just a small bud with a little scurry here and there trying to find my way around. Storms are wonderful in that they show up, uninvited, and then they go.
I love watching birds. No, not the bird watching kind with binoculars, and an encyclopedic knowledge of birding. Just a view in the yard, or in a parking lot is fine with me. They are a little like people. The big one tries to scare the others away from the food source…. maybe it is just a half eaten cheeto, but fine dining for a sparrow. I like the way they scurry, and maneuver around to get the best bite. The timid tiny ones hold back, and wait for the left-overs if there are any. Unaware of any higher intelligence than themselves, they just hop to and fro from day-to-day not worrying about a thing. I have seen a wren’s nest loaded with chirps and peeps snuggled into a heavy piece of equipment that was used to saw trees into lumber. The mother bird would sit on her nest with the roaring noise of everything right around her, and she never seemed disturbed.
Going out-of-town taking care of errands I used to frequent the most wonderful hot dog place. The locals loved it too….and the pigeons. That was part of the fun…watching them ….and throwing out the french fries which my heart didn’t need anyway. Bon appetite for them! It was panic time with thirty pigeons vying for two french fries at a time. The owner had enough of the zoo outside, and placed a plastic owl on his roof in hopes of scaring the birds. It worked for a while. He didn’t think much of their intelligence, and they weren’t impressed with his owl that never wanted a french fry. THAT… they understood instinctively. He never did get rid of them all. But he and his wife did tell me that they sent their kids through college selling hot dogs. Free food for the birds, and college for the kids. No one lost. I read the recipe for that famous hot dog sauce in a book on deciphering secret recipes. The author said it was one of the most difficult to copy. I think I will give it a try. How did I get from parking lot birds to a hot dog sauce recipe? Well, I have no idea!! ……..Terri O.A.