Minnesota Spring

A bunch of photos, unrelated to disability except in the "stay in your house!" sense:

The first four were taken at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum the first week in June. The last photo was taken yesterday in my front yard.












Image description: My favorite easy-access spot at the arboretum is on this wooden bridge over a gurgling brook. Sit facing south and looking over the right side and the water trails away amidst big boulders while the crabapple blooms overhead. Lush, green, shady.













Image description: Look down the other side of the walkway over the stream and the water runs a bit slower, pooling around smaller rocks that have bright green moss growing on them.













Image description: Evergreen branches heavy with lush fresh growth -- thick soft pine needles in bright green -- hang all around the stream's shaded walkway.













Image description: My twin and I (bet you still can't tell us apart) and, I think, St. Francis of Assisi amidst the blooming lilacs. We stand on a groomed lawn next to a bronze statue of a robed figure with a bird resting on an outstretched arm. Behind us is a low retaining wall, and just behind that a profusion of blooming lilac bushes in your basic shade of lilac. The parenthetical joke just above is that my twin weighs about 100 pounds more than I and walks and breathes without assistive equipment. Otherwise, we're identical -- not.













For Sara.

Image description: A tiny nest filled to capacity with baby birds. The nest is maybe three inches in diameter and lies just inside the top of an evergreen bush. Four open mouths wait for a responsible adult to bring eats. One bird, much bigger than the other three, did not come from a finch egg. He's an infant interloper. Everybody's very fragile and helpless and ugly.

Update: The baby birds didn't fare well. Two days after the photo was taken there were just three birds in the nest. Two days after that, just the one bigger baby, who seemed dead. I think the interloper crowded the others out and the parents then abandoned the nest. There's a bluejay nest in the oak tree out back that I'm also keeping an eye on. I can see it from my window as I type. All seems happier there.