What would you change about modern society?
I’m not answering this. I’m taking the day off. There’s not enough room to write what I would change.
Here, look at what my hibiscus are doing. When I’m stressed or upset, I go outside and look at the flowers.
Expect lots of flowers.
It all started yesterday morning when I was out watering the plants in the front yard. I water the plants every morning because it’s summer and it gets hot. If I don’t water, the hydrangea looks like it’s on its last legs by noon. To be honest, it looks like that throughout the day, and then I have to water it again, but that’s a different story.
I was watering the plants per usual when I saw a tiny bird hopping in the grass toward the sidewalk and ultimately toward the road. As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed some vinyl gloves and hastily put them on as I hoped to reach the bird before she made it into the road. She did get to the road, but I got to her in time and scooped her up. Not sure what to do, I placed the bird – which I believed to be either an American Robin or a Bluejay – under my Eastern Redbud (ERJ, for those who have been here a while and are familiar with him).
I went out to check on the bird midday and couldn’t find her anywhere. It was quite hot and I did a thorough sweep of the front and backyard. Twice. I couldn’t find her. An adult robin flew to the space under the tree where I had put the baby and chirped for about five minutes. I realized this was the baby’s mother, and she could not locate her baby. I tried once again to find the baby bird with no luck.
A few hours passed and I sat down to eat my dinner. I took a couple bites, looked out the window, and saw the baby hopping around near ERJ. I immediately swung into action, not even wiping my mouth nor realizing there was food in my hair. I put on some gloves, and flew out the door (no pun intended). I scooped up Little Bit (her new name) and my first thought was the mother left the baby after not being able to locate her earlier in the day. My second thought was not really a thought, but a perception. I formed a cup with both of my hands around this tiny little breathing warm baby with a tiny little rapid heartbeat and watched her fall asleep. It was in that moment I fell in love with Little Bit and was determined to save her.
I was still in my bathrobe and slippers with food in my hair and with a face probably covered in food, when I walked over to a neighbor’s house and asked them to come look in the tree for a nest in another neighbor’s yard. I’m sure these guys thought I was a crazy bird lady and they’re not wrong, but they humored me. After about 10 minutes, they did find the remnants of a nest, but it was not inhabitable. By this time, my neighbor who lived in the house with the land that held the tree with the uninhabitable nest, came out and inquired about this activity. Her cat, who does sneak out and knows how to open doors, was very interested in the bird. (Don’t worry, she wasn’t able to get out.)
The men took their leave, unable to assist, though they did try. I still held Little Bit in both of my hands and she remained asleep. She liked when I pet her head. By this time, the mother robin realized I had the baby and was nearby chirping to it. Unfortunately, the baby was asleep. I wasn’t sure what would happen if if I removed one of my hands, but decided I needed to because I needed to consult Google ASAP. The bird sanctuary was closed and I had no other resources available to me to be able to figure out what to do with this baby bird.
I walked around towards the backyard, hoping the mother would follow. She did, but I still didn’t know what to do. I took my hand away and was able to get into my phone. I Googled, “What do I do with a baby bird?” I found that if the bird can hop, it is a fledgling and it has been nudged out of the nest intentionally. In the fledgling stage, the mother puts the bird in a spot and stays nearby while it learns how to be a big grown-up bird. The problem with Little Bit was she didn’t stay where she was put. And she didn’t answer her mother when her mother called for her midday.
Armed with this information – thanks Google – I proceeded back to the front yard. I kneeled in the grass near ERJ and put my hand against the ground. I opened it up and waited for Little Bit to step out into the grass. The mother had returned and was waiting at the very top of the Weeping Cherry Tree. Little Bit jumped out of my hand and immediately proceeded to poop in the grass. Her mother was chirping to her, and had been for several minutes. Little Bit began chirping back and followed the sound of her mother. I removed my gloves and watched for a few more seconds until the baby bird got under the canopy of the tree and the mother came down to greet her. I went inside and thought how lovely it was to interact with a small creature so helpless and be able to offer her help by keeping her out of the road. I had been terribly depressed yesterday, and the distraction and the joy that bird gave me exponentially lifted my spirits.
I went out later to check on mother and baby, but couldn’t find either one of them. Google told me that the mother will find shelter and stay close by at night until the baby is ready to be on her own. So I no longer was worried about predators eating the baby at night. I assumed she would make it because I didn’t want to think about the alternative. I still don’t. 
I found out later I didn’t need to wear gloves when touching the baby, that it was not true that a bird will abandon a baby if it smells a human scent on the baby. They will not reject it. In my case, though, I am terribly allergic to birds and would have had to wear gloves anyway. I was experiencing a little bit of a wheeze while holding her, but I wasn’t about to let her go until I knew she would be OK.
This morning, I went out to water my plants – the hydrangea was already acting dramatic with limp leaves and sagging blooms and it wasn’t even 10 AM. It’s always high drama with the beautiful hydrangea. It’s the diva of the yard. I didn’t see a baby or a mother. At least not until I got the peanuts out and started dispersing them for the Morning Feeding. There is a robin who lives in the tree next door (the location of the uninhabitable nest), who comes every morning for a lovely peanut breakfast. Robins don’t normally eat peanuts, but this one enjoys them. She has been coming for months. I know it’s Little Bit’s mom.
Google told me that baby robins stay in the same general area as their nest once they’ve grown into adulthood. In fact, when their parents die, they will often take over the same nesting area. It also told me that robins are among the birds that recognize human faces.
I know when I said goodbye to Little Bit like an anxious auntie, that it wasn’t goodbye, it was see you later.
I know you’ll like the peanuts just as much as your mom. See you soon!
P.S. if you think I didn’t get cursed out in meow language by Susie when I came in the house at 7 PM you are wrong. Susie was extremely upset that I was outside playing with a baby bird and she was stuck in the house. Susie was born in this house and has never been outside, so I don’t know what her beef was, but she definitely was angry. I have never seen her so upset. I wanted to talk to her about it and I did ask, but she refused.
©️2024, itsamyisaid.com. All Rights Reserved.
How do you express your gratitude?
It’s really simple. This is what I do: I wake up, open my eyes and say, “I’m grateful for everything I have been given.”
At some point during the day – especially if it’s summer – I will venture outside and say it again. Then I will find happiness in the simple things, which aren’t that simple when you think about it.
Two days ago, I found myself kneeling in the dirt with my face in a coreopsis, watching and listening as a honeybee buzzed around my head to get the sweet nectar from the flowers. The bee had no pollen on her legs, so I knew she wasn’t collecting pollen, she was having a sweet drink. No, I am not scared of bees. Yes, I have been stung many times, but each of those times have been accidental, and not the fault of the bee. Last summer, I stepped on a bee and yes, the pain of the sting was excruciating, but all I could think of was that I carelessly and foolishly killed a honey bee. We need every honeybee we can get, and if I had looked down, I would’ve seen that I shouldn’t have put my foot there. I now make it a point to look down before I put my foot down, and try to walk away from the clover, not through it. I also now always wear shoes when walking through the grass, which I’d rather not do, as feeling the grass on my feet in the summer is one of the best sensations of the season. But, I don’t want to kill bees with my feet.
The point about the bees, other than we desperately need honeybees, so please don’t kill them – if they die, we die – is this: I am grateful for the bees. They are essential to our survival, and they are fascinating. They are not buzzing around outside trying to get us. As I’ve written before, most of the flying creatures I chase are actively trying to run away from me and my phone’s camera.
Yesterday, a worker bee tolerated my presence and allowed me to capture her on video.
After this encounter, I said hi to my wasp friends. More on that later. And no, nobody stung me.
What are your daily habits?
I thought we already went over this WordPress. Let’s review, once again.
Are there things you try to practice daily to live a more sustainable lifestyle?
I didn’t want to answer this prompt by saying, “I recycle, reuse and repurpose,” not because I don’t do those things (I do), but because I felt like it would be a common answer. After a bit of deliberation, I found my prompt answer in an unusual spot. It seems the mourning doves felt very comfortable and a bit frisky in the front flower bed this morning.
That got me thinking. I have noticed there are teenaged squirrels in the backyard and teenaged starlings at the birdbath.
Thus, my contribution to sustainability is providing a natural reproductive habitat for birds, rodents, insects, and possibly Toady McToaderson – if he can find his mate one of these nights. Poor Toady.
AKA Condylostylus mundus
I don’t know which is worse: the common name or the Latin name.
When I noticed this stunning bug on a wildflower that is growing up through my rosebush, its legs weren’t the first thing I thought about, nor clamored to see. My first thought wasn’t “I need to be able to judge its leg length compared to other flies’ leg lengths!” I had never seen one of these before, and I am not sure that I ever will again. It is not native to my area.
I tried not to scare it away as I reached for my phone. You know how I like to chase things that are cute – or in this case stunningly beautiful – and you know how they run away from me (bunnies, bumblebees, butterflies, I’m looking at you…). I inched closer to this marvelous being, and was able to capture a few shots. Unfortunately, my phone was completely captivated and was unable to focus on the creature very well, and I ended up with only one decent photo.
After the Beauty Queen of the Backyard flew off, I went inside and did some research. Google told me this electrifyingly blue-green insect was called a Long-Legged Fly. First of all, this bug did not have Daddy-Long Leg legs – that would have been pretty obvious, and honestly? Ridiculous. My second complaint was: why are we focusing on legs when we have an entire blue-green iridescent body that is deserving of a better name than one given to a hillbilly at a dive bar in a Holler?
And then there is the Latin, official name: Condylostylus mundus. Really? The only thing I see here is stylus, and maybe that is vaguely appropriate, but we need to alter the word to stylish.
In summary, I have renamed this fly, which, by the way, eats aphids and other pests, and is completely not like the regular fly that we associate with trash and maggots. (Sidebar: I absolutely abhor maggots, and will run for the hills, alternatively screeching and gagging if I see even one of them.) Flies are disgusting. I know they’re necessary, but I also know every time they land they throw up, and I can be down with the delectable bee vomit, but I am not down with fly vomit under any circumstances.
But I digress. Back to the stylish fly. I’ve decided to rename it, and I think that the governing bodies of naming insects should listen to me.
Stylishirridescentbluegreenfly regularlengthlegs
I shared this on Instagram today, and I’ve talked about Katherine a few times to fellow bloggers. I’m sharing the reel I made because maybe a few of you will be interested in seeing Katherine, an Orb Weaver that took up residence on my front porch a few years ago. She was majestic and fascinating. She laid two egg sacks in the clematis, which I promised her I would move to a safer spot once she was gone. She lived until mid December, which was quite a long time for a spider. I hope you enjoy the video. 🕸️🤍
The flowers are blossoming, and the critters are crittering.
©️2024, itsamyisaid.com, all rights reserved
What fears have you overcome and how?
I don’t have it in me today to answer this. It’s been a rocky four days. I’ll share some photos instead.
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
“It's Amy,” I said. 