Witness

 

Living out in the country like we do, I get to witness new things every week.

Like this morning, I went out to feed the barn cats and returning I heard who-whowho-who in the trees of our neighbor’s property. I stood and listened to the whooting. It seemed almost fake at first. Then as the rhythm progressed, the owl calling in the dawn, the irregularity of it’s call created the feeling of reality in my brain.

Last week I witnessed a funny, sad, scary moment when the four deer that visit each day moved into our front gardens munching on whatever they could find. I looked again and one deer had a bucket on her head. Her ears weren’t inside the bucket so I had hopes she could shake it off. I thought about going out to help, but I knew the group would just run away into the woods. The other deer stood still and watched the crazy one with the bucket on her head, like some teen crazy stunt drama in my front yard. Later that day I found said bucket, so all is well with that deer. The small herd has not been back since the incident.

I’ve watched barn cats give birth and conversely mourn for their dead kittens. I’ve seen chickens sit in my presence and roosters walk away from a fight with me.

I’ve seen a huge 10-point buck chase his herd past my window.

I’ve seen run-away dogs, hungry, ribs showing, refusing any food I offer.

I’ve seen raccoon antics on my bird feeders, possums sitting on my front porch doing a cat imitation, crows warn other crows that I’m on my walk, woodpeckers chase bluejays from their tree and black birds chase crows from their trees.

I’ve seen the most beautiful rainbows to which no camera would do justice. I’ve seen cloud formations that no one would believe even if I could find the words. I’ve noticed raspberry patches dry up and move to new locations. I’ve seen buzzards show up during butchering time. I’ve seen a falcon fly straight-arrow, four feet from the ground, past my window, grabbing a sparrow without a flinch of flight pattern.

I’ve seen hawks dive for rodents and snatch them back to the big cottonwood in the back. I’ve seen all sorts of birds the books say I’m not supposed to see. I’ve watched spiders do things the books say they aren’t supposed to do. I heard bird song I can’t identify, even with the websites and apps. I hear the sounds the birds make quietly, privately as I move past their nesting place.

I witness the effects of rain on our gravel driveway, rivulets of quasi creeks pushing our expensive stone further down the hill ending in mud puddles.

But most of all, I witness how God cares for his creatures, how they use whatever He gives them to make a life for themselves. I’ve tried to make order out of chaos and witnessed how fast life goes back to nature, then realized that my order might be the chaos.

Witness – 12-16-22 – FMF