Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, March 26, 2012

blue jay versus owl

I was helping Angela in her mother's garden this evening. It was about five o'clock and still bright light out. We were moving tomato seedlings. (I should say, Angela was moving them and I was watering them. I have a minor back injury, at the moment, and my movement ability is erratic.) Out in the center of the yard, a huge brown owl swooped down into the pine needles from the woods behind the yard. The owl looked up, suddenly, at us. It darted back into the trees.

The owl watched over us, while we were working in the yard to fertilize strawberries and preparing the beds for planting. I took pictures of the owl on my electronic devices. Our observor felt like such a good omen. This bird watching over us was ready to go after the squirrels that have been such a bane, and any rabbits that have also plagued the garden. The wise owl, scanning the world, comes back to stare down at us like a sentinel.

The blue jays were furious. It was still light enough that the owl was sluggish and not seeing so well. They darted around it, cawing their heads off. Then, they took turns swooping up behind the owl, on a higher branch, cawing and cawing. One cawed in front to distract the owl. Then, the one behind swooped down and popped the owl upside the head as hard as they could. The owl seemed more annoyed by the cawing then the pops in the head. The blue jays kept at it, trying to pop that owl hard enough to get rid of it. The blue jays worked in tandem. Then, one got spooked and gave up and the other kept at it alone.

The owl remained. The owl was patient and unconcerned.

The owl waits for darkness, looking over the garden. I took a video on my iPod, and if it comes out, I will post it.

Spring is here. When we opened the back door, the earwigs were swarming there. We poured borax down to drive the bugs away. We smashed them dead into the borax. We swept their bodies into the grass.

This morning I was working on the steampunk novel, and it is close. I have turned in the novella for the Fathomless Abyss and await editorial notes. Dogsland continues. Disintegration Visions continues.

The engines of creation are still burning a little longer.

Spring is here. I am writing.

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