A magical week

I had the most interesting week - and the total eclipse was just a tiny part of it.


The hummingbird that claimed my back yard, apparently getting used to me, started flying around me when I went outside with the dog.  He flashed his ruby red neck at me once, but soon accepted me.  I'm now able to stand next to the feeder for close encounters every morning, and it's thrilling.  I just stand still and admire him as he dashes back and forth, around my head and on to the feeder.  We study each other, eye to eye, curiosity winning over fear of the unknown, until I've had enough of the mosquitoes nipping at my ankles, say goodbye and move on.  I love that beautiful, brave little creature!

 

A few weeks ago I watched a mother robin build a nest right outside of my bay window.  She laid a couple of eggs and sat on them until they hatched through two major all-day thunderstorms, 90 degree heat waves, and hawk fly-overs.  One storm was so bad I was surprised to see the nest was still intact afterwards.  Mom nursed the babies into maturity, spreading her wings over them when rain fell, defending them from trespassers, feeding them and taking away their poop every day until the biggest left the nest.  Every day I'd wave to the babies when they poked their heads up to look for mom, and I let mom know she was safe in her little home, nestled in the branches of my crape myrtle.  The other day the last robin fledgling flew the nest right after I was able to get a couple of pictures.  He perched on the edge of the nest ready to pose for me, almost like he was waiting for me when I got home from work to say goodbye.  God's speed little robin - good luck!   Empty nest syndrome!

One day I watched a large praying mantis grab a small butterfly from my butterfly bush and eat it.  I was studying my yard, looking for weeds, and gradually my eyes focused on him as he waited patiently on the end of a branch under a flower bloom until a butterfly came close enough to grab.  He sat on the branch to munch on his snack until there was little left of the butterfly, then disappeared.  I haven't seen him since.  Until then I never knew that praying mantis ate butterflies.

While I was watching the solar eclipse on Monday, a large female Pileated woodpecker flew over my head, cheered and tapped loudly on a nearby tree, then she flew into the trees at the end of my street.  She was so close I didn't need my glasses to get a clear sighting!  When she disappeared from sight into the trees I looked down to see the hummingbird moth I had been waiting for all summer.  I get one every year.  It was flying around the butterfly bush that I was standing next to, jumping from flower to flower searching for nectar.  I forgot about the solar spectacle I was witnessing, grabbed my camera and took pictures until it flew away.  Three sightings for the price of one - whoo, hoo!

I got to see enough of the eclipse to marvel at the beauty of it before the storm clouds rolled in and blocked the whole sighting of the sun/moon.  It was worth the sweat of braving the stifling humidity and heat of August to watch the moon slowly slide over to block the sun, but I was glad to go back in to my air conditioning.  It's a good thing NASA was out there taking brilliant pictures of the eclipse for me.  In my area there was only a partial mooning, but it was a sight to see anyway.  I felt like I was witnessing a marvel of the universe.  My close encounters that day made it a very special day, indeed, and it wasn't the end.

Later that afternoon I watched a bee carry around tiny leaves until she disappeared into my iron railing.  At first I thought I was seeing things, so I leaned in to get a closer look at the creature.  Similar to a honey bee, but smaller, she held her prize close to her body with her tiny feet as she flew past me and never lost grip as she climbed into the cavity of the railing.  The bee ignored me and kept on with her nest building, flying away after depositing her leaves to find another.  After some Googling I realized I had attracted leaf cutting bees to my butterfly garden.  I had seen them earlier in the summer dashing from flower to flower, but I didn't realize what they were.  I learned they are gentle beings, excellent pollinators, and use the leaves to lay eggs.  I was thrilled to realize my gardening was helping more than butterflies.

The next day, as I was watering a neighbor's flowers, a rather scary spider tried to land on me, descending from a tree like a silent killer.  I spotted it right in time to dodge it, but as I backed away it followed, and just as I was ready to freak out and flail my arms in a panic a wasp came along, grabbed the spider and carried it away.  It was like Sylvester Stallone flew by just in time to save me.  My hero! Thank you Waspy!

I frequently have encounters like these around my small home in the middle of the city, and I adore them.   I have a theory that we are always surrounded by these busy little lives, hidden from our view by the camouflage of nature.  But until we are accepted as safe participants and allies we are purposely kept at bay.  I see these sightings as confirmations that I have been accepted into Mother Nature's tribe, and every encounter is a nod to say hello.  I say hello back, with my own nod and a smile, and extend my gratitude for letting me see them as the beautiful beings that they are - my siblings on planet Earth, my friends, my tribe.

Thank you for giving me a magical week.