We walked together yesterday, and it stunk. No, I don’t mean the experience was bad. I mean it literally stunk. Smelled like smoke - like a fire was happening in the neighborhood. But the fire department app didn’t indicate anything. Chris read about some sand blowing over from the Sahara Desert, but this was assuredly smoke. I saw a news report that it was from an agricultural burn in Mexico. OK. Seemed a stretch. Then the League City Fire Department tracked it to some wildfires in Brazoria County. Makes a lot more sense. Thanks, LCFD.
We had a rather startling experience as we were eating lunch. We were just calmly enjoying our leftovers and watermelon (great combination), when suddenly our peace was invaded by an explosion from the back glass door.
I whipped around to see feathers flying everywhere and their former avian employer fluttering away as best he could. But he had left behind a dripping mess of residue along with the drifting mass of feathers.
Freddy was at the door in an instant. I got up and went outside to see if the terrified critter had made the now-agonizing flight over the back fence and beyond. He was nowhere to be seen.
Probably good for him, since Freddy was hungrily sniffing at each individual feather. She apparently made a connection, too, because she then lifted her nose to the sky to search for a potential flying treat. Sorry Freddy. You missed by that much.
Chris wasn’t content to leave everything as it was, though. The guts on the door was simply more than she could handle. She went outside as well, but her task was to spray the door down with the hose. Mission accomplished.
The backyard action did continue to pick up. As I stood at the door gazing out, I noticed a bright yellow butterfly fluttering about our bushes. Cute little thing. Landed on a blue Mexican Petunia bloom to enjoy some rest and maybe a sip of sap. Bad choice. Little did he realize that lurking just above him, having just completed a round in the freshly filled birdbath, was a large grackle. The bird cocked his head, eyeing the potential prey. And suddenly he pounced. Got him. The butterfly was in his mouth as he touched down on the grass.
Now the grackle is not a very trusting animal. Instead of gobbling the butterfly treat right away, he placed it on the ground, under his left paw. He then surveyed his surroundings. A cock of the head left. A slight shift right. All seemed clear when suddenly …
That butterfly somehow managed to escape the clutches manhandling (or grackle-handling) him. Free! He shot out from between those toes and was off like a yellow streak into the hot, humid, noontime sky. Fastest -and straightest - I have ever seen a butterfly fly. Nice job, little one.
Habakkuk 2:14 says, For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord’s glory, as the waters cover the sea.
Father, we trust that poor little bird to your care. Amen.
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