Tag Archives: outdoors

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Envy

I am supposed to write about envy
but what I am feeling is grief
I walked five miles yesterday
and it was fun, talking, a group
but then a nap from 2 to 5, three hours
and to bed at seven pm and up at five
so 13 hours sleep in response to exercise

It is time to downsize what I think I can do
I still have my mind, but the energy is halved
I can’t work full time as a physician
and I am not sure I can work half time
Do I try it? The risk that I crash again?
Pneumonia and death? Or do I curl into the grief
and find something else to do.

Even the thought makes me tired.

Not envy of other doctors, oh, maybe a little
but the truth is, my survival to date is something
of a miracle. Babies with mothers with active tuberculosis
usually die very quickly, infected, overshelmed.
My mother kindly coughed blood so the doctors knew
before I was born, from the protection of the womb
to the protection of the family, away from my mother.
She is dead, my father is dead, my sister is dead
so even if I cannot work half time
it’s still miraculous to be here at all.

I hope that each and every one of you
feels the miracle of not being dead and gone
some days. And that you do not envy
your dead.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: envy.

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The numbers game #4

Here is my first try at Judy’s numbers game. The number is 125. I got over 300 photographs with that entry, so that’s a bit many to post. Many are of birds or our beautiful Salish Sea. And bowling, heh.

The first is from December 2018, of the ferry from Port Townsend to Whidby Island at sunrise.

Reflections off of North Beach. A storm was rolling in, but the sun was still lighting the clouds, which in turn lit the water. December 2018.

Taken at Fish Park in Poulsbo, February 2022.

Bowling, November 2021.

Napping. February 2023.

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Cat tv

The hummingbirds were very hungry in yesterday’s 17 degree weather. At first Front Anna looked disheveled and fluffed up and miserable, but she cheered up considerably after breakfast. I filled my squirrel chewed bird feeders too. I put a warm scarf on each of my desks in front and we had a nice day of cat tv. My house was built in 1930 and it is not well insulated. Usually it’s not bad, just cooler upstairs, but in this cold it comes through all the walls and windows, storms or not.

But the cats watched the feeder tv quite happily. I took them out in harnesses and they decided to come back in quite soon. I don’t think they minded the snow, but they did not like the cold at all.

And the sun came out.

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Bonfire metabolism

We are having our first real cold snap, with snow and lots of accidents two evenings ago. We have Anna’s hummingbirds, who can over winter. By yesterday morning, the temperature had dropped to 17 degrees F. Both of my hummingbird feeders were frozen.

I went out to wrap a hot towel around one. The front-of-the-house Anna’s buzzed me, inches from my face, to let me know she is HUNGRY and the food IS NOT AVAILABLE. The hot towel didn’t work, so I took the feeder in for a bit. She didn’t like that at all.

This looks pretty silly, but success!

The tiny feeder is one to hold in my hand. I have three, so I rotated them during the day to keep thawed food. Anna Front still spent energy chasing other hummingbirds away. She doesn’t look too upset, does she?

Anna’s hummingbird guarding her feeder and grooming in a rhododendron

The photos and video were taken through my window from my desk.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bonfire.

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Teamwork

The plaque for this pollinator, the yucca moth, says that it and the yucca plant have evolved to be dependent on each other. Dependent sounds a bit worrisome. If I reframe it as teamwork, all of a sudden it sounds much better! And this is intentional pollination, which the author says is rare.

This is from the Holiday Exhibit, complete with train, at the US Botanic Gardens.

Does dependent sound more worrisome than teamwork? If so, why?

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pollinator.