The Little Ones Outside...

"I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven."

~ Emily Dickinson ~
 

I have been wanting to get out and fill the bird feeders but with my knee, torn ligament, patellar tendonitis, fun fun fun, it was NOT an easy task and I had no business on the step ladder but I just hung on for dear life and got those feeders filled and up. I think God looks after those who look after his little ones!

As one who has always had many birds inside, I have also always had numerous feeders for the wild birds outside and they bring me such deep delight. The chickadee is one of my favorites and as in the picture above there is just something so charming about this tiny little puffball of a bird with so much personality.

I have a large studio off of my Cozy Room (The living room proper is in the front but I spend my time back here in the small room with the fireplace, a nook between the kitchen and the studio, filled with dogs and yarn and books and a glowing fire, definitely cozy!) and as I have written before the studio has a long wall of wooden windows above a built in cabinet that go all the way down the length of the studio and looks out into my woods in the back. The adjoining short wall has two sets of windows and the "dog door" that opens out onto a large deck. I love it out there. Going out into my back yard feels, at times, like taking a trip to Walden. Deep woods with a creek at the back.

On the outside of the short wall's windows are 7 feeders for the wild birds and squirrels. I have finally mastered the art of feeding the birds AND the squirrels without the squirrels tearing up the bird feeders (...and that includes the "squirrel proof" feeders they always seem to get into by hook or by crook!). I have 3 feeders hanging high for the birds and they are supposed to be squirrel proof but the ones on the sides not so much until I attached the 4 feeders to the windows with suction cups, and spread seed on the sill liberally.

And there is a large real tree perch that came with greenwing macaw Flounder who came to live with us recently but he won't have a thing to do with it. The bottom of it is filled with cement and rock so it is very sturdy and I spread seed all over the top of it too. The squirrels now eat from this once-a-parrot stand, the sill, and the bottom feeders...

Everyone eats well around here!

I also cleaned off the deck and filled the dog's big bowl with water (... they are inside dogs but like to go in and out of the dog door into our huge fenced back yard so I keep a big fresh bowl of water out there for them because on nice days they sometimes like to lounge on the deck. See purple dog door off green deck below!)...

.... and then washed and filled the big bowl of water for the birds to drink and bathe in. I change it daily and they are all quite happy hanging out on the deck. The concrete mermaid in front of the bowl is an antique that was once part of a fountain. I love mermaids...

And down the wall with the bird feeders are windchimes. There are several on the deck. It's a wonderful place to meditate...

And it is so adorable because inside, on the other side of the windows, is Flounder's huge cage and he just loves to sit on top and play with his toys and watch the birds at the feeders. He whistles and sings and gets so excited!

And so I came in, with an aching knee, four dogs trailing in behind me, Flounder happy to see Mama and come on my shoulder to ride around with me, and I felt so full and happy and satisfied and blessed knowing that bad knee or no I had been able to get all my little ones outside taken care of. Such a good feeling.

And now it is Saturday night and I am having a cup of Ginger Peach Green Tea in a mostly dark room, the birds longsince put to bed and dogs sleeping with puggerly snores all around me. Time to knit, crochet, read, write, and say prayers of thanksgiving for all that I am blessed with. I think once more of a favorite Emily Dickinson poem that is so well known and loved...

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.


And so I go in bedraggled but happy, feeling that quiet, tender, fulfilling joy. Praise be!