The ladder is sturdy with a solid platform, so I’m not going to take a nosedive on to the deck flooring.
I step up and reach for the empty suet mesh bag. It will not be replaced.
May has arrived and I’m going to quit hanging suet balls for the birds. I’ve already quit throwing out sunflower seeds. A new season is here, bringing new tasks.
I pause for a brief minute and a visual crosses my mind. I see myself, with hat pulled over my head, encased in a heavy winter jacket, being buffeted by November winds as I put up the first suet ball of last winter. Back in those cold, gray days, I enjoyed seeing chickadees and nuthatches zoom about, squawking as they pecked at the frozen white glob of fat.
In the frozen days of winter, it was nice to see action and life as the birds zoomed, squabbled and ate suet.
Now, with the arrival of spring, lively birds are everywhere, going about their nest building and mating tasks, singing outside my window at five in the morning as the day begins to lighten, and life abounds everywhere.
As I unhook the empty mesh bag and replace the hook in its eye, I think about the hook’s next task, which will be holding a hanging basket of brightly colored flowers.
I walk into the house to throw the mesh bag away and take a look at it. The string has been darkened by dirt streaks that must have come from the birds as they clung to the suet ball. Funny, I’ve never imagined little bird feet or feathers as being dirty, but why not?
Many people continue to feed birds throughout the summer, but for me, it’s definitely time to quit. I figure the birds need a break from me as I do from them. They will survive just fine on their own in the next few months.
Besides, there are so many other things to be done in the summer.
Gardening season will start with a vengeance. Already my flower gardens need attention. The summer deck furniture will need placement. The compost in the bin must be spread. The lawn needs work since, under the snow cover some little creature has spent the winter tunneling through its surface.
So much life abounds at this time of the year…a fox with a stump for a tail runs down the hill to the lake…deer flit about everywhere…peepers pipe their songs from marshes. I tell myself that this is my favorite time of the year and wonder how I could have been excited last November at the sight of a few measly birds at the suet ball.
But I suddenly remember the feelings of anticipation I had for Thanksgiving and Christmas and remember again the enjoyment of birds at the feeder and the beauty of falling snow and thinking that was my favorite season.
In fact, what’s wrong with enjoying every season?
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