Pictures from our treehouse

When this crow landed he (or she) interrupted whatever miscellaneous and probably unhelpful thoughts I was having. I was looking out the kitchen window, a few feet away. She made quite the dramatic appearance. Rich black feathers and so much larger than our usual visitors, the starlings and the house sparrows.

Fortunately I had the Yashica ready, my old slr, almost entirely manual.

The week was fun for unexpected guests.

We almost never see our sweet state bird. The chicadee teases us by showing up just once or twice a year. When our black and white cat, Peanut, was still alive we once had a black and white morning as she ran to look out the door at the chicadee who had landed on the railing.

It was the chicadee who made me a bird watcher years ago. We were living on Centennial Avenue and our Icelandic landlord put a bird feeder in the rather lonesome looking backyard.

It had attracted mostly house sparrows and then one March morning I looked out the back door and there at the feeder was a tiny black and white bird. What in the world is that? I had no idea.

A few weeks later I was in Central Park and lo and behold discovered the dark-eyed junco. In fact it turned out there were always lots of interesting birds in the park but I had never noticed them despite living in the city most of my life (and spending many an hour in the park). This proves again if you don't look you won't see. Or just that the senses are tricky things. I guess you'd go crazy if you didn't filter but I'm very glad I'm alert these many years later to every squeak, squawk, and flutter.

And of course here's Harry looking the worse for wear after her perhaps battle for the nest with the other squirrel (who won). She visits every weekend. All I have to do to distinguish her is call through the window, "Harry, is that you?" and if she jumps off the railing and runs to the back door I know it's Harry.

Before I had noticed here it is.

This is the Spirea plant in the small garden at the front of the house. When did she grow small white flowering bells? Perhaps when I was training briefly for a brief job.

When we first looked at this apartment it was only renovated on the inside. Outside the brown shingles were, in places, flapping off the house. I didn't notice it. We had been living in a place horrible inside and out. It was a temporary sojourn after losing our home of 11 years. (The house was sold and they didn't want tenants.) I heard about this apartment from Lucille who'd run into Kasha who was moving.

I went over at 5:30 the morning after her phone call and despite its being late winter I saw the front garden in full bloom. My imagination captured the spirit of the garden though it was months before it would actually flower (and it did, there were strawberries, too.) When I finally saw the inside I was blown away. So beautiful. That's now 7 years ago.

This beautiful little tree flowered before our crocuses because she sits in the sunlight. I have to look at the garden every day now for the joyful reminder that lo the winter is past.

In a crazy way right after we moved in I began to feel bad that we'd gotten this wonderful place to live. I thought what if it's like the story "The Monkey's Paw" and something terrible will happen now. But I had the great luck to run into Michael O'Leary, singer and poet, in the local co-op and he said offhandedly, "Oh, I've often had good karma with apartments." And so I felt better about it.