Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I hope everyone is doing well. I mean to write more, but I just can’t find the words.
I love warm weather and walking barefoot in the grass. Bitter cold and snow along with all the things that come with them are not high on my list of favorites. They’re actually on another list… 💩
But even when I’m scraping snow off my car and getting plowed in by the snow plow, if I take a moment to look up, it’s marvelous. ❄️
©️2025, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved
Butterflies don’t have norireceptors
They can’t feel pain
At least that’s what they say
They also don’t recognize human voices
Well, that’s what they say
I’ve only seen three this year
The most royal of all of the butterflies
I’m a finder of lost things and valuables that belong to others
And animals that are lost or hurt
I found her struggling on the sidewalk
I halted my walk in more ways than one
Scooped her up in my hands, and she desperately tried to fly
She had no visible injuries
Not to my eyes
I took her to my neighbor’s where I thought she might find some blooms
I offered her water from my tiny bottle cap
She did lap it up and for a moment, and I thought that was that
But she still could not fly
Even though she desperately tried
So I brought her home in a shoebox with some flowers
But that’s not the part I really want to talk about
I want to tell you how she recognized my voice and how her antennae responded when I talked to her kindly
I want to tell you she was perfect with not a spot on her to explain why she was dying
I pet her little body and talked to her sweetly
I told her she was beautiful, and although she couldn’t get to her destination
She would stay here with me
I hoped for a miracle overnight, but I knew better
At first light, I checked her shoe box and she was nearly dead, so weak she was, ants were crawling on her
I brought her in the house and showed her all the plants
I told her I loved her and would take care of her
I put her in a plastic bag and placed it in the freezer
(This is how to humanely euthanize butterflies when they are already dying)
I took her out twenty four hours later and laid her on the table. She looked the same, but her body wasn’t contorted anymore. Her antenna relaxed to a normal position rather than contracted in a sort of grimace
They say butterflies don’t feel pain. I don’t believe them.
I want to know why a beautiful, gentle creature meant to migrate thousands of miles only flew a few feet before starting to die
And other malevolent beings are granted the gift of a lengthy, destructive life
I want to know why
It’s late summer now, and the plants feel like they’re done. It’s been far too hot, far too rainy and the plants are tired. My eastern redbud is dying, its leaves have been dropping all summer and at the base of the tree, you can see the borers doing their damage. The shock of ERJ being sick combined with several other losses this summer broke my heart a little bit. But after some tests, the doctor says my heart is normal. It broke, but it is getting better. I saw a hummingbird a few days ago. I opened the front door and it was hovering above the red Zinnia, staring at me. It looked displeased. I apologized for the lack of selection, but most of the Zinnia had to be pulled because they got powdery mildew. A few days ago, a monarch butterfly arrived to the same plant, and was visibly irritated by the lack of selection. Hopefully they don’t leave me a bad review. I’d like more visitors next year.
I’ve seen a cicada shell, in the usual space I see them. On the clothes pole. I never catch the live bug – I arrive too late.
Ma’am has been here on and off. She had babies this summer, and her face is totally healed. I saw her last week. She’s looking good.
I have four fledgling robins in my backyard, two young squirrels, many sparrows, and very demanding Cardinals. My backyard is the nursery for all of the babies. There was plenty of water at ground level and above in the birdbath, and there are peanuts, served daily. I just wish the moms would come back and pick up their kids!
The hibiscus just finished up blooming. Acorns are dropping prematurely from William I, my 100-year-old Willow Oak. It’s likely due to the weather, or the small acorns not being pollinated. As I said, it was a rough summer.
We’re heading into spider season. I’ve got an office mate named “Stephen with a ph,” and he takes care of any fruit flies for me. I have to be careful not to bump him with my chair or he runs and hides. His cubicle is quite small, so I don’t insist he pay rent. Plus, he’s doing me a service. I only wish he could get the mosquitoes down to his lair.
Here are some photos of late spring and summer. I haven’t posted photos here in a while, and I have missed it. Watch the space for a 🕸️ post.
©️2025, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved
I’ve been taking photographs of flowers and trees and plants and bees…all spring and summer. Ma’am the squirrel makes an appearance in the video below. She’s got babies now and she stops by, but those babies take up a lot of her time. She’s fully healed, so it’s hard for me to tell if it’s her or not her. I ask all the squirrels if they are ma’am. I am pretty sure they think I am the strangest food lady ever.
Some sad news to report on ERJ (my eastern redbud tree, for those who are new here. He and William The First, my Willow Oak, are tied for favorite tree first place): I noticed he wasn’t doing well a couple months ago and had an arborist come look at him. He has borers. The arborist seemed to think ERJ would pull through, but I have serious doubts. I know my tree, and he doesn’t look well. His leaves are yellowing and dropping. He has tons of suckers and tons of seed pods. I feel like this is his last hurrah trying to create new generations. I have applied the insecticide three times now and I don’t think it’s working. You might remember ERJ from previous posts. I will be very sad to lose him, but at the end of this video, you will see I have another redbud in my backyard and its leaves are huge. I love the heart shape of the leaves. It’s truly my favorite type of tree. But don’t tell William.
I hope you enjoy this trip around my flowers, an (unnamed) eastern redbud, a lightning bug, a bumblebee and a squirrel.
What is your career plan?
I guess you could call it that. I call it a lifestyle, and this is what it looks like:
Not Idris…
These are blooming now and their scent is amazing.
I will hopefully have photographic and videographic imagery of ERJ, William and all of the rest of the crew in bloom (and out if) coming soon.
What was the last live performance you saw?
This is Ma’am. She frequently does performative art. I’ve been feeding this squirrel for at least four years. Around Thanksgiving, she showed up with two huge masses on her face. She couldn’t eat, but she tried. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew she would die if I didn’t try to help her. I searched the internet for help and found a wildlife rehab nearby. The woman there told me to get the squirrel into a cat carrier and bring her over to her house via car.
I had the cat carrier, but I didn’t have much conviction that this would work. But I didn’t have time to think about how it would fail. I got the carrier out, put it on the porch and loaded it up with peanuts and blueberries. By this time, the squirrel had gone home and I waited on the porch to see if she would return. It was a matter of life or death. I’m not being dramatic – it really was. She came back, and got close enough to the carrier that I was able to push her in and shut the door. I called the woman and informed her that I was successful with the capture and I would be at her house within 20 minutes.
I expected the squirrel to get loose in my car and envisioned a horrific scene of torn upholstery, and a screaming driver with a squirrel on top of her head, but the squirrel was so good. She didn’t let out a peep and enjoyed the ride.
We got to the woman’s house, which is where she runs the rehab for wild animals, and I gave her my friend Ma’am.
I called the next day and inquired about my squirrel‘s face. Apparently, she had two pockets of infection. One had popped with some antibiotic treatment, but the other one needed more time. Ma’am was there nearly a month. I called every day, wanting to know how she was and if she could come home yet.
The woman was astonished that I would want to bring her home because usually people drop off wildlife and the woman releases them into the woods behind her house. But that’s not how I work. The squirrel lives here. She has a nest and a family and friends and a life here.
Remarkably, she got better. She never stopped growling at the woman who was helping her, but she became well enough to be released back to me. I was thrilled. I drove over to pick her up sometime around Christmas. She was quiet all the way home. I let her out of the box on the porch, where she usually eats, and she needed a few days to familiarize herself with her homebase. She came back in a few days, hungry and looking for snacks. I was worried she wouldn’t be as tame with me or as friendly, but I was worried for nothing. But I also didn’t want her to be as tame with me, I wanted her to have natural instincts to stay away from humans and to keep her wits about her out in the wild. 
As I compose this, it is May 9th, and I haven’t seen Ma’am in a few days, but that doesn’t really mean anything. A few times I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks and she shows up unannounced. But once she’s here, everyone else must leave. She won’t have it any other way. (I have never seen an animal – besides my own cat, Susie – with such a will to live. I’m not sure what power charges that squirrel to keep living, but for Susie, I know it is love.)
Her face has healed up quite a bit since she got home, and although it may never be perfect, I tried my best to help an animal who badly needed it. I don’t regret anything, and I would do it all over again, even if the squirrel didn’t live.
Oh, there is a slight debate going on about whether the squirrel is a male or a female, although I’m almost 100% positive she’s a girl. I do know the squirrel growls at everyone and anything except me. She will fight off three other squirrels while she is eating walnuts (this is how a squirrel ends up with two pockets of infection on her face…). And I could swear I’ve seen her in previous summers with babies, but just in case, her name is Ma’am/Mr. Ma’am. It’s not important to me if the squirrel is a boy or a girl. What is important to me is that I help the helpless. I had to do it. She sought me out for help, and I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t say no. So I said yes, and now I frequently have performative art on my front porch, which does include a sploot or two. May we all find kindness when we desperately need it. May we all be kindness when others need it. May we take refuge in the solace of nature when everything feels heavy and impossible. The animals are worth it. And the trees are worth it too, but that’s another post.
©️2025, itsamyisaid.com
I mentioned in a post kind of recently – recently being relative – that I have a story I want to post about an ongoing project/adventure. This photo is a sneak peek (or should I say peak snack?) of that story,
Stay tuned and stay snacked. 
Hey everyone! Popping in to share an update on that baby bird I found this past summer. As far as life goes, it’s been hectic. My new job is intense, the people are great and I love it. I have had no desire to write a single word, but I am enjoying this nice weather and all of the animals that visit every day.
I hope you all are doing well and I also hope to get bit by the writing bug again soon. Probably when things settle down a little bit (see what I did there?) at work. Until then, please enjoy the reappearance of Little Bit (and her friend, Plus One)! Apologies for the darkness of the video – it was hastily recorded through my window. Miss you guys! 🫶🏻
“It's Amy,” I said. 