Backyard Adventures

During the cold winter months, I sometimes amuse myself thinking of the warm days soon to return, bringing adventures great and small.

On early summer afternoons, when birds chatter and soft breezes soothe, time slows and nothing seems urgent. I sit in my simple alcove, built 150 years ago but seemingly designed just for me. The corner captures the sun and foils the occasional north wind. Here I’ve spent years of simple bliss with lovely lunches surrounded by verdant growth. In my quiet, nearly still repose, adventures begin to emerge.

A red-tailed hawk swoops, seeking lunch of his own. Then a rather plump chipmunk appears, fortunately after the hawk had moved on.

The chipmunk doesn’t notice me as he searches for food and maybe a mate. He scurries over tree roots, bounces into planters bursting with summer blooms, then dashes back into the open until suddenly screeching to a halt. I am spotted.

Momentarily frozen, he seems to consider what I might be — something edible or dangerous, perhaps? Then with a frenzied flourish, he dashes across the driveway, disappearing into a thick bush. I lift my glass and sip, careful to hide my curiosity. He’d appeared seemingly from out of nowhere, disappearing then reappearing again to zip right in front of me and through open grates under the back porch.

Now somewhat behind me, the little critter must believe he is securely hidden, though I can still see him from my left. He extends his front paws against one of the open slots and rests his adorable head upon those paws, giving me intense scrutiny. He studies me with his big brown eyes for a long five minutes as I continue eating nonchalantly. I dare not look directly at him lest he bolt.

Apparently having had enough, he slips out the back of the grate, content to keep this encounter strictly to himself.

Moments later, a squirrel appears with a walnut in his mouth, surely obtained from the offerings my neighbor sets out each morning. The squirrel saunters around the yard, seeking the perfect hiding place for his bounty.

He digs near a leafy tree by the fence. With great care, he vigilantly looks left and right. Coast clear, he drops the precious nut into the hole and skips away.

Ah, but in his haste he hadn’t looked up. Atop that leafy tree awaited a very quiet, very patient crow. Once the squirrel is out of sight, the crow swoops down, digs up the walnut, and flies off with the treasure in his beak. All is fair in love and war, I guess.

If you give yourself the gift of time in the yard or garden, these stories perennially play out. You need only spend a little time in the quiet to bear witness. And what a treat that is.

Johanna Skouras is a psychotherapist and author of the book Standing Up for Yourself/The Art of Self Assertion.