everyweather

The light at 5am fuels the songs of so many unseen birds. From the extended cool of spring to full throttle summer in a day. An hour after I filled and hung my hummingbird feeder, two hummingbirds arrived. One metallic green. The other red-breasted. They sipped in stillness and peered about. A new chapter of wasps weaving every which way, building in every eave toward some eventual. The bottle babies broke out of their pen five times, chasing the neighbors kids out on their first evening bike ride of the season. There is joy in the unscripted many times over. Grilled dinner on the dregs of last fall's propane. The first black fly bite of the year on my shoulder. On Minna's forehead. It doesn't itch, though, dad. Not one bit.