Going home...

It was a beautiful day. At work I kept on thinking about going home. I planned to take care of all the animals, then sit quietly in the back yard. I planned to cook a simple summer supper of steak and veggies on the grill and share a quiet evening with my best friend (who is, coincidentally, my husband.)

I took my camera with me when I went. I took pictures of the dogs playing, of dinner cooking. I lit a fire in the fire pit and took pictures of the flames lapping the dry pine. I took pictures of the rabbit and the chickens and the lambs. And I took pictures of birds on the feeders, in the air, and zooming into the bird house.

And I pondered the universal appeal of going home. The place of ease and rest and security and comfort. I am so grateful to have a home to go to.

Little happy birds...

The tree swallows migrate back very early in the spring. My husband calls them the "little happy birds." They are aerodynamic savants, swooping through the air to catch bugs and even snatch feathers for their nests from a whimsical breeze. Their voices are a high, clear twitter that never fails to make me smile. They nest in houses we have put up around our property.

This morning was chilly, and I noticed one bird sat perched on a post by the nest box for a very long time. So I did as I must and grabbed my camera and went outside. I took photos as I got closer and Closer and CLOSER. He let me within about 3 feet before he lifted his wings and swept off. I could have almost touched him. He, in turn, touched me.