Thursday, February 26, 2009

Gone Squirrely

I am happiest, I think, when I am puttering about in my yard. I love planting things and watching them grow. The multifarious colors of a variety of flowers brighten up the soil, drawing in all sorts of interesting flying creatures. (Sigh) Gardening is so satisfying.



And I love feeding the birds. There is something so happy about a bird. Their musical trills are payment enough for the cost of the seed. The anticipation of what might show up at the feeder, what might fly overhead, begins each day anew. No feather is unwelcome in my yard.

Northern Mockingbird

Northern Mockingbird

But I especially love the squirrels. This love came after I raised an orphaned pair a few years back. When they were old enough I released them back into the "wild", but they hung about for a time. Each day one or the other would return and knock on my door begging for pecans. I looked forward to those knocks. As time went by, they came less and less. Eventually, they didn't come at all. I was sad, but that was, after all, what I'd released them to do.

My Boy

My Boy, Gray Squirrel

The other day I went out to photograph the azaleas. Azaleas are a sure sign of spring here in Central Florida. The pink and lavender formosas each spring dress themselves for a few days in frilly flowers as if they are going to a wedding.

Plenty of Pink

Plenty of Pink

Imagine the smile on my face when I was greeted by one of my small whiskered friends. Flowers forgotten, I stood instead, losing track of time, and admired a squirrel, and he, in turn, stared back at me. For just that moment, it was the two of us each observing the other.

A Friendly Face

A Friendly Face

I suppose I am mostly a back yard photographer. Oh, I read of photographers who travel the world and bring back amazing stories, images of magnificent buildings, and fantastic cultures. And I too am drawn in by the faces of the people, their landscapes, and their seasons.

However, when it comes down to the grassroots of it, I am happiest at home. Just give me a chair and an hour to watch the clouds float by, to count the birds whisking overhead, to close my eyes and listen to the sound of the wind. I think then I am truly at my best.


post signature

Suzanne Wiliams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.


Yvonne said...

Oh, I love your backyard pictures!

I live in the woods in Maine. I have a window feeder and have let the birds get so accustomed to me that I can feed them out of my hand regularly. I think so prefer my warm hand to the wooden feeder. One goldfinch didn't want to fly off, even when I stroked his breast with my thumb.

We have squirrels also, but I don't really want them near an open window. One winter we had flying squirrels in the attic...cute, but destructive!

I just discovered your site and love it!


scw1217 said...

Thanks, Vonnie! I haven't ever been fortunate enough to feed a bird from my hand. What a wonderful moment that must be!