We planted blue spruce trees on our front lawn, years ago. I really have no idea exactly when. That is the thing about time, it tends to confuse me.
Most times I am just trying to keep up with what it brings and enjoy the ride. This has been my motto for a while now. I used to fret about what, where, when, and of course how.
Age has brought about a change for which I am grateful. Those years of fretting about what I can and cannot change, are hopefully behind. I say that, as I laugh aloud.
I certainly still do have my moments. Ask My Hero (poor man). Mornings have me sitting at my window sipping coffee.
Sometimes I stand by my sink, as I wash dishes, usually from the night before (because I can) and watch the birds who made those blue spruce their homes. Lately, I have been watching a male, and a female cedar waxwings flit in and out of the trees. Those special birds have not been flying on this farm for years.
I get so excited when I see them that I shout for My Hero, he always comes running. Mourning doves coo their songs, while they sit on the wires that run along the gravel road. They sing for those birds that sing back.
There are three sets of mourning doves who nest in these trees. They are the first soothing sounds we hear in the morning, through the day and especially in the evenings. Those gentle birds soothe my heart with their singing.
Windows are wide open to let the bird sounds enter our home, sometimes mixed with the road gravel dust. It is worth it. I must say .