I have put years of careful neglect into my back yard just so I can hear birds sing, toads and frogs croak, and see fireflies at night. It’s paid off, despite the less welcome visitors like skunks, mice, and the like. There’s times I consider having the whole damn thing cut back and trying to get it less random than it is, but damn it is so relaxing out there.

See, it started out with native plants being encouraged to come in, seeded where possible. But then my body quit being able to do much care of it, and my dad got past the point of being able to mow the non meadow parts, and it all just snowballed. So now there’s a bloody forest starting up in the farther section that’s creeping across the rest.

But damn. Those tree frogs serenading after rains has been so fucking nice to hear. And seeing rabbits unafraid to just chill. And the dozens of species of birds that now perch on the closest trees when I come out to feed the chickens because they know my monkey ass ain’t gonna do anything but throw a handful of scratch their way and laugh at them.

Well, except the cardinals. Those buggers don’t just perch. They hop around giving me the old stink eye for not being fast enough with the treats. Those little twat waffles are the third certain generation of cardinals. I think, anyway. I know that there’s been two generations of juveniles around, and the adults I first saw had different details. I guess it could be the same adults, with variations to their black areas over time. But they look enough different to me.

I don’t snow white the birds or anything, I don’t let them get that close that they start treating humans as trustworthy. But they’re good company when I have the stamina to get out there and chill