Sepia Sampler...and Other Things That Begin With "Ssss"

I am still struggling with the souls stranded on the Isle of the Unfinished, but have rescued one:  "Sepia Sampler," a design by Lori Brechlin of Notforgotten Farm, is now finally finished and framed.  (The frame is not as black as it appears in the photo - there are wonderful wood tones that reflect the sepia tones of the sampler colors.)

{Stitched 1 over 2 on 36ct "Wren" by Picture This Plus.}

The smoke from the Canadian wildfires has once again enveloped Nod.

Every morning, every evening and every hour in between is shrouded in haze.

{Smokebush and Echinacea...and wildfire smoke}

This round, the smoke seems particularly irritating to my eyes so I checked on the back gardens, then retreated to my dungeon.

{View from the dungeon}
 

It's not such a bad place to be considering the "babies" are now hatched and out and about.

You know...those other things that start with "ssss...."

Yes, that streak of red on the left of the photo below is a very forked tongue.

They are every bit as feisty as the adults.

If you don't hear from me in a few weeks, please tell someone to bring bread and water....

On second thought, hold the water...make it wine.

My Little Jungle

I have never been to a true and proper jungle. The closest I have come is a few hours in a tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico.

I never did see a monkey there, though, and that disappointed me.

(No, monkeys aren't native to Puerto Rico but in the 1950's, some escaped a lab and, well, now there are monkeys in Puerto Rico...you know, that "lab leak" thing.)

Anyway.

We skipped spring here in Nod and leapt directly into summer.

We have been unusually hot and unusually dry, at least for this early in the season.

But for someone who dwells in a land with 7+ months of winter, my complaining lips are duly and properly buttoned.

Come along for a peek at my little jungle here in Nod.

{House Wren hitching a ride on the witch's cat's head on the cornzebo's weathervane}

{Weeping Tina Crabapple}

{Magnolia and Rhododendron}

{False Indigo}

{Miss Kim Lilac}

{Lupines}

{Baltimore Oriole}

{House Wren residence outside my front door}

{Resting hummingbird}

I wish you could hear the cacophony that goes on at times in my little jungle.

I did not receive the family gene that enables me to tell one bird song (or even one bird by sight) from another, but Miss Marly of Samplers-and-Santas introduced me to the Merlin app and I feel like a blind person who can once again see.

These are some of the birds that have serenaded me in my jungle the past few days:

And no jungle would be complete without critters.

Some less desirable than others...

and far more plentiful...not only slithering on the ground but dropping out of trees and bushes.

Gah!

  

My little jungle desperately needs rain.  Several days the sky has darkened with promise, but it seems the promise always goes unfulfilled.

I realize I have not posted about any "projects" of late...I have done a little stitching - no hooking, no finishing though.  But for those of you who are gracious enough to follow me for those types of things, I promise I will update soon.

La Famille Cardinale

This is a love story...or not.

 

{Apologies, for this and the majority of the other photos in this post. They were taken through a screened window of my kitchen.} 

I have learned so very much these past many weeks.

 I have learned about faithfulness, the importance of a true partner in this world; that there can be danger where you least expect it, that there are others who take advantage of others, that life goes on after loss. I have learned that the cycle of life can be both beautiful and sad, that life is better with a song in your heart, that things can and do change quickly, that "littles" grow up equally quickly, and that one should never, ever, become complacent to the point of taking things for granted.

Oh...and I learned about cardinals.

I am not certain where to begin, but perhaps the beginning would be the best place, no?

First, for some introductions:

Papa Cardinal...

If you read my last post, you would have seen a cardinal camouflaged in a tree in the following photo.  That would be Monsieur Cardinal.

Most times, cardinals can be a bit elusive (sometimes making one wonder if it was illusive).

But Monsieur Cardinal was a constant - and quite vocal - visitor.

{Trés beau, non?}

Had I been a bit more perceptive, I would have realized why the very trees seemed to bleed with song:

Mademoiselle Cardinal

There was an official courtship underway.

So, being cognizant of my both my moral duties and my legal duties, I married them forthwith.

Now, to be truthful, I am not entirely certain which came first - the chicken or the egg the ceremony or the nest.  All I can say is that things happened quite quickly, and I was relieved to learn that, unlike most humans these days, cardinals mate for life.

And soon Monsieur and Madame Cardinal were expectant parents.

{Although difficult to see, there are two eggs in the nest.}

I then realized that my duties did not end at just being the officiant and making an honest woman bird of Madame C.

Oh no...they had just begun.

I had to defend those little eggs from predators. 

And let me tell you, Nod may be the furthest thing from a big city you can find these days, but there are a great many predators here.

So, when I wasn't warding off these:

{Snakes...not concrete tortoises....}

...chasing off these guys:

...or trying to shoo these:

{A red squirrel just for you Saundra...}

... or climbing on top of things no person should climb upon just to get a peek or take a photo, I worried.  (And I bet you thought I was doing nothing since I last posted. For shame.)

But the happy day arrived, and the first little "chirps" wafted through my kitchen window.

But like "real" life, no love story is without some sort of tragedy or heartbreak.

There had been two eggs, but there was only one hatchling.  😢

I am not certain what happened.  Had it been a snake who climbed up there (THIS has happened, trust me...there is a post somewhere way back in my older posts that contains gruesome evidence of that), I would have thought both eggs would be gone.

But the more I pondered it, the more I REALLY started worrying.

Cowbirds are plentiful in these parts and cowbirds are notorious brood parasites - meaning they will pirate and/or destroy the eggs of another species bird's nest and leave their own eggs for the mistress of that nest to raise. 

And so I worried some more.

But worry just steals one's joy, so I put it quickly behind me, and watched the little one thrive (and studied photos of cowbird and cardinal nestlings just to be sure the nestling wasn't a cardinal imposter.)

{Love the little wisps of "hair" feathers on the top of his head...Think he had nest hair that day.}

I also gained a whole new respect and admiration for cardinals.

Papa Cardinal wore himself to a frazzle helping Maman Cardinal build the nest, then flying back and forth to the nest feeding both Maman and Bébé Cardinal.

It is also his responsibility to change the diapers (i.e., carry out the nestling(s)' poop sacks).  (True story...research it.)

During this time (assuming she is like "typical" cardinals), Maman had built another nest (cardinals do not reuse their nests) and started a new family, taking turns tending to her newborn and going back to sit on her soon-to-be newborns.  Papa, in turn,  was truly stretched to the limit flitting back and forth between two homes nests, changing diapers, feeding Bébé and feeding Maman.

And then "that" day came - the day Bébé left the nest.  I kept thinking I would have more time, but he grew so very quickly.  Like I said previously, there is hurt in every life and some sadness in every love story.  Papa and Maman, however thin their time was stretched, were there for the big moment. 

They took turns flying back to the nest to coax Bébé further and further.

And then Bébé was gone.  

I waited and waited for him to come back, but hours went by and he didn't.

Papa did come back a few times checking the nest, but no Bébé.

Finally, close to dusk, Bébé returned, by himself, to the nest.

He did not stay long, however, and did not, to my knowledge spend the night there.

The nest now sits abandoned...and each time I look out my kitchen window, I am reminded of the joy La Famille Cardinale gave me if only for a few, brief, weeks.

But, oh, is it quiet.  I had grown accustomed to their songs every time I stepped outside or opened a window.

The mockingbird is here still and sings such wonderful songs, but he does not know the cardinal's song.

The End