The first steps of my walk around the pond today gave me no hope of finding much to photograph. It seemed for some time that it would be more of a workout than an opportunity to capture anything of interest with my camera.
But then I saw a flitting motion at the far end of the pond, the only motion in sight. A little flock of little birds was flying short distances and alighting on fence-top and low branches. I hurried, in a sneaky sort of way, not wanting to scare them off before I got a few pictures.
I was delighted when I realized they were eastern bluebirds! I followed them and stood under a tree where for a couple of minutes they let me take their pictures – one (above) even looked me in the eye. “Hold still while I take your picture,” I thought and it did.
I still carry a great sadness that my mother is not part of this life any longer. Today as I started my walk, I hoped it was a time of reconnecting with my habit of frequent walks around the pond, which has been interrupted since last August – mostly because of my mother’s need for my care, her death, and the sorting out of things that follows.
As I began my walk, I felt myself begin to cry. Were I to get a good picture of anything, my habit of giving her a sneak preview before posting to this site would not be happening as it always had in the past.
My mother knew my thrill one time at seeing the eastern bluebird, several years ago, at the pond. Today, I couldn’t help but think she gave me a bit of cheer, a “chin-up” message, with the presentation of those beautiful birds in an otherwise stark winter setting.
Who knows if those on the other side come to us, or if we attach to them meaning in the things we see on this side. I know my mother knew that I’ve been waiting to see the eastern bluebird again.
SilverLining 
Hi Mary,I am glad you are back, but am sorry you had to go through some tough times to get here. I will look forward to seeing your new postings.I too saw the small flock of birds at the far end of the pond on Sunday. I didn't expect they would be anything special, so, no stealth approach. Also, I had a 40pound dog dog on lead which makes stealth approaches difficult. I did not see what they were! I have a friend who has blue bird houses and with patience, he feeds them their favorite worms!Take care,Bruce
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Hi Bruce,Sorry to be so long replying – Glad you saw the bluebirds!Now the red-winged blackbirds are arriving!Soon the Baltimore orioles!Happy springtime -Mary
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I will miss that most – sharing those creative things with my mother. We have always been creative kindred spirits and she loved to see all my drawings and now my weavings..she is my greatest muse. Where do I go from there?
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It's not the same and never can be. I can't tell you what a void there is, where she used to be. I am editing my first full-length novel now and she only got to see the first eighth of it. She loved it – saying, \”Ah, you've really got something here!\” (Now, that's my mother I'm talking about! And like a first grader I think, \”Yippie!\”) But as I edit the book now, it pains me (literally) that I can't share it with her. I feel a frustrating tension through my body that she's not here to read it. I have an impulse thought, \”Mum will love this part!\” Then the pang of remembering she'll never see it. I'm crying again!There is no replacement person.
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