Saturday, September 10, 2022

Buggy

There was some sun in the morning.  Two Carolina wrens took turns pecking at barkbutter remnants.  At least two hummingbirds wanted a drink but got chased instead.  Meanwhile the camera battery was being shy.  And then I had a meeting. 

When I got back to cleaning the pool the sky had gone gray.  It was warm enough and not windy, but the sky looked cold.  The skimmer held one live little frog and one slimy, decaying larger frog, and a nearly solid stuffing of leaf shreds and pine needles.  I rescued one skink with a recently lost tail.  Then another climbed up my back.  I helped that one out too, though it didn't deserve it.  And when I had managed to get rid most of the larger pieces of debris, I caught yet another frog, a green frog this time.  

Despite a sprinkle around 4pm the ground was dry and the plants looked droopy.  But the humidity made the bugs optimistic.  Mosquitoes were getting up in my face.  I think I killed a couple.  But where, I wondered, were the dragonflies? At supper, a dove came to forage for dropped seeds.  And then the light faded out.  




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