Injured Cardinal

The day after Thanksgiving, i walked into the woodshed attached to my garage and found a female cardinal. Cardinals are very skittish, so i knew i couldn't approach her directly. I left the woodshed and went around to the side door. When i opened that, she hopped toward the garage and hopped out the open door. She didn't fly. Two of her wing feathers were sticking up.

She hopped across the driveway, toward the compost bins. I didn't see her again after she hopped into a hemlock hedge. I scattered some sunflower seeds around, but The chickadees, however, found the sunflower seeds within minutes.

Ah, well. Nature will take its own course.

I was surprised to see her again yesterday. As i was walking to the compost bin, she hopped out of some very thin cover next to the garage. Hop, hop, hop--across the driveway. She fluttered about 6 inches off the ground for 6 feet. That seemed like progress. I scattered more sunflower seeds on the ground, around the garage, the driveway, the shrubbery.

Just like the cardinal, i too am of the nature to become disabled. Whether i want to or not. Maybe she had a broken wing. Maybe i will break a bone. Maybe her wing was sprained. I too am of the nature to have sprains.

Nature takes its own course.

Gray Turkey

A flock of turkeys often visit the field near my vegetable garden. Yesterday, i did a double-take. A gray turkey with white wings strolled in their midst. The turkeys didn't seem to notice this difference.

We all know that a turkey is a turkey. One is not better than another. No difference except feathers.

Do we know--really know, deep in our bones--that skin color is also no difference. Except that we act as if there is a difference.

Feather Red Mustard

A couple of years ago, i bought Feather Red Mustard, more for its decorative qualities than for culinary purposes. To my delight it has reseeded itself again and again. I had one crop last spring. Now that the weather is cool, i have another crop.

Since color in the fall garden is fading, these burgundy red leaves add a welcome dash of color to my herb garden. And the featheriness of the leaves adds interest.

Even in the autumn of our lives, when we've lost the pzazz we once had, when our looks have faded, when our bodies become feather-light and fragile, we can still  offer a dash of color to the world around us--through our good deeds and open-heartedness.