I’m sitting on my deck a lot today. Only one and a half more days until my angiogram. I’m waiting and resting. I get too tired to hold up my phone or my book for long. I’m bored with TV. It is easier to sit on my deck. I watch the light, the wind in the trees, chickadees, Douglas squirrels, even banana slugs. I’m here now with a half-eaten meal on my lap.
I have turned my lounge chair so I can watch my only visitor, a small barred owl that I think was born above the far side of the house this spring. I heard them when he fledged.
An afternoon about a month ago, there had been a racket of birds screeching and flapping outside our windows. I tried to catch part of the harassment on camera. They were pummeling him, screaming at him to leave. I felt sorry for him then. Tonight, he isn’t being harassed and the usual birds in the trees chirp casually.
So I sat in my lounge chair with my friend. He was quiet. I don’t have the strength to talk much anyway. He preened. He looked back at me. He scratched his head. He shat. But mostly, he sat quietly with me as I sat.
I wish he could tell me a story, maybe about the day he was attacked, how all he’d done was eaten an egg. I’ll look for him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll let me watch him as he sleeps, the way he watched me today.
Thank you for listening, jules
