What I Learned Whilst Reclining in My Yard, Today . . .

I've learned some things this evening, while relaxing in the front yard. Like . . . at any given moment, there are one, two, or three dragonflies, red ones, big red ones, in the airspace over our little piece of Earth . . . all flying the same direction {except for one little guy whom I surmise must have forgotten something and had to fly back to get it}. . .otherwise they are all flying toward the river . . . so we know where they're probably going, but where are they coming from? Did they fly the other direction this morning, and now are returning home for the evening?

And there are lots of tiny little birds in our neighborhood. {I know, that's redundant, but they are tinier than little and bigger than tiny.}

Then there are the hummingbirds. They like to perch at the tippest toppest perch they can find. In this case, our neighbor's giant redwood trees. Little man syndrome, I guess.

Another thing about hummingbirds, when they fly directly away from you, and the only backdrop is beautiful, clear, light blue sky, they look like X-wing fighters. And they kind of sound a little like 'em, too.

And the birds . . . when they fly by some of them flap several times, and then fold their wings and glide, while others, leave them extended to coast. Like this; flutter, flutter, flutter, fold and glide, flutter, flutter, flutter, fold and glide. . . I suppose that isn't Earth shattering news to anyone, but from underneath and according to their yellow tummies, I thought they were all goldfinches, but apparently they weren't the same at all.

. . . And, I think I need to spend more time outside. The birds were singing while I spread my blanket on the side of the yard where the bird feeder hangs, maybe they were scolding {I did notice that it was empty, so I filled it}, and moved my little nest to the other side where the pickup in the driveway obstructs the birds' view of a person in their yard. After I moved, though, the singing stopped altogether. Maybe they were scolding . . . At any rate, I wish they were more accustomed to me, so I could stay . . . and hear their lovely little songs.