Nature space journal #2

I got out to my nature space today. I could tell right off that the river was much higher then before. The snow must be melting off in the distant mountains. As I walked along the path a flash of color caught my eye, and I looked up to see the first Western Oriole of the year. I stood for a while and listened to it's beautiful song. When the performance was over I walked on. Getting to my usual sitting spot I found it over flowing with water from the swollen river. I decided to walk a little farther and find a new spot. I saw an old fallen tree with a new tree growing over the bones of it's brother providing shade and I felt it would be nice, though there was not much of a view from the high growing underbrush.

I ducked off the path and took a seat in the mini-grove. I was soon rewarded with the appearance of three very small birds on a nearby branch and a shower of Cotton wood cotton that floated all around us like little miniature fairies. The birds twilled for a short while and then moved on. I thought of the dead mouse I found on the path. It was uneaten, another victim of the well fed Ferrel cat population I deduced. I like cats as much as the next person, but I really dislike Farrel cats, and I believe they should be destroyed, and most certainly not fed and allowed to thrive. They are killing machines, and do unmeasurable damage to native species. Even if you feed them, they still kill. You can take away it's hunger, but not it's impulse to kill.


I took three sticks of incense from my crane bag, lit them, and gently placed them in the sandy soil. I offered them as a gift to the nature spirits. I watched rabbits, and lizards. I saw ants busily doing what ants do. I heard a red tailed hawk in the distance. I felt the nature spirits all around. It was wonderful. The wind tickled my face and teased my long hair. As the incense burned to the sand I heard an unusual peep, and peeked through the underbrush. I was rewarded with a visit from a family of quail. I smiled and wished them well and told the to be wary of the cats. Farrel cats are hell on quail. As I got up to head back I heard the hawk cry out again. I know he's looking for a nice rabbit, but maybe he'll find Farrel cat on the menu. Yeah, I'd be ok with that.