The wild life

It feels like winter coming here at the Gimp Compound. This past weekend, my father put up his little hand-turned wooden dish bird feeder and set out the winter birdbath on the back deck, which has been cleared of patio furniture for the season. The hand-turned feeder is about an eight-inch dish attached to a two-foot dowel and hung from the edge of the eave just outside the picture window I face when I enjoy my morning tea. The winter birdbath is heated, and wasn't plugged in at first, but the water froze solid yesterday, so it's a little birdy hot tub now.

The winter bird accommodations bring the wildlife right up to the picture window instead of 15 feet out at the oak tree bordering the back deck, though the suet feeder gets attached to the tree trunk for the winter and will become a popular lunchtime destination too. The past couple days there've been chickadees, nuthatches, juncos, downy woodpeckers, sparrows and finches at that little feeder a few inches from the glass. They eat a bit, then notice the shape of me through the window at a table about five feet away and they stretch and tip their heads to focus an eyeball in my direction with curiosity and concern. And they chatter to each other. Drive the cat wild inside. The squirrels look for dropped seeds under the feeder and sit eyeball to eyeball with the cat while she twitches uncontrollably.

Last week, the pileated woodpecker came to see if the suet was up yet. It wasn't. I sat with my tea, frozen motionless, while the massive 15-inch male crept up the tree trunk, peered with paranoia all around, then resignedly flew away. And today there was squirrel sex. Lots of it. In the oak tree, in the neighbors' oak tree up high -- a hundred feet off the ground. Much exuberant molesting of each other throughout the afternoon.

Life inside the picture window is much duller. Me, I'm exhausted from a night spent training a brand new nurse. All went great, but I never sleep well the first few nights with someone new around, so I'm tired and off to bed early tonight.

But check out my friend Grace's post on Wilma Rudolph. Wilma was my first hero. I read her autobiography when I was in grade school, and long before I identified as disabled or used a wheelchair I thought she was the most amazing person on earth. I'll do tomorrow's post now too, early, about another hero of mine.