Wild turkeys gabbling loudly on the hillside in the mornings.Hummingbirds buzzing the feeders all day long and wood thrushes calling from their hiding places in the woods--but no sign of the blue-gray gnatcatchers' nest.
Cicadas emerging from the soil, molting, and starting their summer racket in the treetops, members of the massive 17-year emergence that will soon fill the woods with a sound like hungry chainsaws.
Rhododendrons we planted as bare sticks a decade ago producing masses of showy flowers today.
Columbine blossoms in the front garden nodding next to wild daisies and dandelions.
A kind neighbor tilling up our garden, and all those leggy tomato and pepper plants making their way out of the greenhouse and into the ground.
A yard that needs mowing and, afterward, sweet corn waiting in the kitchen and the Cleveland Indians on the radio.
Feels like home.
2 comments:
That makes me want to visit.
Something tells me I'll be visiting your house before you visit mine. Not that there's anything wrong with that!
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