Bluebirds And Other Happinesses

We are enjoying uneventful days here. The three conventional bluebird houses seem to be in use. The Peterson Bluebird house is occupied by tree swallows. They are iridescent dark blue, but still count as blue birds of happiness.

There are plenty of other birds about. Every evening, we hear the owls, but I have not managed a picture. Recently, crows have ventured to the back porch after years of never getting closer to the house than the pasture fence. They are still quite camera shy, but I love seeing them up close and marvel at their size, and their loud voices. At the other end of the scale, hummingbirds are here, but not much luck with photographs of them yet. They love the columbines.

Other flying creatures are also captivating. So far, no bats have been seen, despite the open house on the bat house. We remain hopeful that they will move in, or at least make an appearance.

I love fireflies, and wish I could get a picture to do justice to their magical profusion. When I was young, my father, being a scientist, somehow got involved in the collection of fireflies for research. There were seven of us children, and at dusk, the cry would go out “prime time!” – while it was still just light enough to see the actual firefly after they blinked their light. A jar full of the poor creatures would be collected and put into the refrigerator. Once, the jar was knocked onto the ground and broke. Hundreds of fireflies awoke with the warmth and filled the kitchen. Back then, it was impossible to imagine that any insects would become scarce. Now, I cherish butterflies and fireflies (and bees) that we used to take for granted.

Marilyn rode through on Trigger. As is his habit, Roy was galloping hither and yon, always in touch, but rarely still. Marilyn chanced upon Jane and Derry on the trails, and I had the camera handy when they came by here. Trigger has shed his winter coat and is a glorious, shiny liver chestnut color.