Most all of the plantings in the back yard gardens On Crooked Creek are in soothing shades of greens, creamy whites ~ buttery yellows and suttle purple hues. Calming and serene.
The reasoning behind the color palette is due, in part, to my previous employment as a middle school para educator. I needed rest ~ and ~ relaxation after dealing with challenging students throughout the day. Also, due to the huge volumes of traffic that goes with living off a State Highway access road. . . and oh, yes. . .then there's the railroad track and the municipal airport flight pattern. Needless to say, soothing hues were definitely in order!
Since my retirement from 33 years as an educator, we've begun to add a few additional hints of pink. Our 1970's Ranch~Style home was overgrown with mature plantings when we arrived On Crooked Creek. "Mr. Ed" , our son and daughter~in~law, and I spent one entire Spring ridding the property of dying trees and bushes. We were desperately trying to enhance the surviving landscape.
Earlier in the Spring, I posted The Spiritual Garden by Rosamond, Lady Langham. I have, truly, found solace and peace On Crooked Creek. And this Spring. . .so did someone else!
The very next day, while looking out my window, I noticed something orange in my delicate pink, flowering Crab Tree. I went out onto the deck for a closer look and there at the fork in the branches of that delicate tree sat a robin on her nest.
This time when I came outdoors, I was armed with the two~step ladder and camera. Beware. . . I was dangerously close to wildlife to capture these shots. The second shot is blurred because as I was photo shooting ~ MaMa Robin to the rescue. She frightened me!!!
Directly above my head ~ she is r e a l l y upset with me!
Good thing I couldn't understand a chirp she said. . . but notice her beak. . .and l o u d !!! From that day on, I never revisited the nest. I honored her motherhood and kept my distance.
Returning from a weekend trip, I couldn't see any movement in the nest. Closer observation affirmed my suspicions. The baby Robins had left the nest.
I miss seeing those little Robins with their beaks perched upward awaiting MaMa Robin's a~la~carte menu.
I miss their soft high pitched chirping.
I miss MaMa Robin's stern look darting its warnings towards me.
I'm thankful for the Robin's nest.
Thankful that the nest was revealed to me.
Thankful for its discretely hidden existence in our garden.
Thankful for the empty nest~
evidence of their visit On Crooked Creek.
Until next time. . .