29 May, 2020
A cool breeze lifts the page of a morning that was supposed to be full of rain but it’s not!
Early summer sun rises behind me, it lights on flowering bush and tree: lilac, quince, cherry, rhododendron, the especially golden buttercup patches. The back lawn looks like a crazy quilt, the work of an eccentric mower. I wanted for the time being to spare the heads of those wild yellow lawn flowers. Later when they’re gone by, I’ll even things out. But for now they reach up skywards a few inches, turn faces to the morning sun.
The garter snakes appreciate the random mowings, leaving islands of long grasses with shaved intervals to glide through then hide in.
In the catbird’s seat, I watch that catbird flaunt and flounce her morning away between the high back of yonder Adirondack chair in front of the rhododendrons ,over to the birdbath and back again. Once in a while flashing a teasing glimpse of her red bloomers. I’ve got my chair here on the back porch, while sassy catbird, she’s got her catbird chair to herself. She does pounce on an insect for breakfast as would the cat of the 9th century Irish monk. That Irish monk wrote a poem in the margins of a codex he was copying, in the company of his cat Pangur Ban. Poet seeks out words, cat seeks out mouse. Each to his own pursuit and task. No cat here, but catbird.
Awasoos, the mother bear was in the neighborhood again last night. Phone calls went out to our cluster of households to say she was back. Dog and bird feeders came inside lickety-split. She didn’t break into the yard after all, and I was able to savor my own salmon grilling on the campfire in peace without having to share with no bear!
Great grandmother Kateri Annennotak, (Huron/Wendat) daughter of the Bear Clan kept an eye on us, was pleased we treated her clan mother bear with respect.
I guess I would have handed over my salmon if I really had to!
RiverStoriesDavidBrule 