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
