There were so many birds on the deck today. There had to be at least a dozen different species — and there were at least two species of squirrel and a couple of chipmunks, too. And let’s not forget the grazing deer this morning.
Why so many creatures? Because there isn’t much food. Everything is brown, burned and dry. We have a relatively green backyard because we have a septic tank under the ground and because Owen doesn’t cut the grass or trim the hedges until the end of the season. And then, only so those ugly strangling vines don’t kill everything else.
Today I also saw, for the first time, birds drinking from the trays of water I leave out for them. I fill them every day, but I never saw anything drinking from them. So, I wondered. I was glad to see that the water is doing some good.
There was a report on the news that in a few years, big swatches of this country — the middle of this country, all of the west coast plus swatches of the south Atlantic coast — will be regularly hitting temperatures of 125 degrees (51.6 Celsius). Not just during a “heat spell.” All summer. I just stared at the screen and finally said “Thanks for sharing.”
I did not need to hear that. And that was just the weather, never mind the rest of the news.
As long as I am able, I’ll keep feeding wild things and praying to whatever gods may be that humans manage to pull a gigantic, magic rabbit out of our universal hat and there will be a world for my granddaughter and those who come later.