The cats didn't come in when I called late last night. I wasn't surprised -- yesterday was the warmest day of the year so far. They waited until dawn broke drizzly and cool, and then Luna woke me by clawing her way up the window screen nearest my bed. Both kitties came running when I opened the door, all wet paws and hungry bellies. Now they sleep the afternoon away -- Luna in one of the sheepskin-lined baskets, Tango at the foot of my down-comforter-covered bed.
I'll have to switch the comforter for a lighter bedspread soon. Today is gray and cool-ish, but yesterday was hot -- hot like summer. Hot enough that I drew the blinds and removed the storm window from the screen door. Last night I went to a thesis reading by two of my immensely talented classmates. Everywhere I looked, I saw sunburned people.
On my way down the driveway to the reading, I witnessed a most unusual sight: a great blue heron perched atop the gate, sillhouetted against the hazy, late-afternoon sky. And me with my camera left at home. I can't imagine why it stopped here; there's no water nearby to speak of.
I've been watching the starlings mating and nesting outside my big window. They gather up bundles of twigs and grasses in their beaks, then fly them up under the eaves of the old chicken coop. It's a regular starling apartment complex.
Something has moved in under the chicken coop as well. I discovered a big mound of freshly excavated dirt a few days ago. I don't know what it is -- rabbit? Skunk? Badger? Fox? I wish I knew more about denning creatures.
I've been seeing and hearing the northern flickers out and about, too, but am surprised and grateful that they haven't yet discovered my stovepipe this spring. Knock wood. (Ahem.)





