Just this last week, while completing the final stages of my pre-work nap (that’s after I had already gotten dressed and completed my morning reading assignments), I received a picture via text message in a group chat from one of my colleagues; also displaced from the cube farm.
The picture featured some sort of varmint which appeared to have its noggin stuck between a few posts. I had to stare at it a few moments and zoom in and out in order to figure out what it was.
I responded to the chat in order to verify my assessment. “Trash panda?”
“Yeppers. The inert varietal.”
I made a mental note to provide feedback to my colleague (with a copy to our manager) about the importance of getting a good angle when taking pictures of critters (deceased, diseased, or otherwise), especially if said pictures are going to be sent in an early morning chat before a proper dosage of caffeine has been introduced into our collective gullets.
Speaking of guests in the yard, we’ve encountered our own share of them in recent weeks. Furthermore, there is sufficient evidence available that they aren’t here just to admire the cacophony of color which has been incorporated into the bed in front of the kitchen window where the occasional passer-by can peak in and spy me guzzling fruit punch straight from the jug at the fridge.
It should be stated right here that I would have a better chance of telling you the detailed plots of any of the Fast & Furious movies, none of which I’ve seen or care to see, than I would be able to list off the types of plants, flowers, and other green growing things my beloved wife has put in that yard. Sure it looks great, but long gone is my ability to mow a straight line out there without being terrorized by that tall one with the red pedals and emasculating yellow stamen, or that fuzzy looking little fern, or the one with the little pink flowers that the humming birds like and the dog won’t stop sniffing at in a fevered investigation to determine what other varmint was rummaging through there the night before.
On the other side of that discussion, it’s about 19 hours of guys driving cars delivering ham fisted dialogue.
For all tents and porpoises, the front yard has transcended its original assignment as Wifey’s own little arboretum to that of a love nest (hourly rates available) for a variety of uninvited guests who haven’t even shown the courtesy of a decent Yelp review.
Case in point, let’s talk about the wreath on the front door.
When it first went up a few months ago, we received a cease and desist order from the legislature up in Austin (freaks) ordering us to save some Texas for the rest of the state.
Still reeling from that stunt the state pulled with the wind energy during the February freeze, we declined and left the wreath up.
Take that ERCOT!
A few weeks ago, we noticed a slight change in the wreath. Some debris had gathered between it and the door.
This wasn’t much of a surprise. The way the door is situated in a small enclosed space, we tend to get stuff blowing into that area all the time. We just hadn’t seen it on the door before.
Upon further inspection, we realized the debris field was purposeful.
Most bird nests are.
Well crud.
For the time being, we left it alone.
At one point earlier this week when I opened the door to take the TharpSter TreadMill for a walk, a sound emitted from behind my head as I stepped outside.
THUP THUP THUP THUP
The process of my opening the door had awoken and startled the bird which was living in there, and it took the opportunity to get on outta there before additional danger could ensue.
A little later in the day, we pulled the curtain on the inside of the door to inspect the nest from the back side.
There are a couple of eggs in that nest.
I just hope they’re the chocolate, malted milk kind.
I’ll add at this point that the yard modifications haven’t been beneficial just for the birds though. Others have found the new surroundings to be conducive to all sorts of activities.
Bees are grabbing stuff from one flower to take to another.
Worms and snakes are doing underground whatever worms and snakes do.
The occasional deer wanders by and inspects the bed out front as if it were an all-you-can-eat salad bar, sans sneeze guard.
Feral cats are enjoying the scenery and adding to it with their digestive processes.
To cap it all off, lizards are bundling their insurance on the downspout.
