For the birds . . .

Got the kids all sitting up and eating breakfast this morning.   Nothing terribly unusual about that.  In the process of getting my own breakfast ready I hear Ava, “My birdies are calling me!”  Ella turns to her and says, “They are not your birdies Ava.”  And Ava's reply, “They are my friends, Ella!”  My three year old has birdy friends.   Okay, well, we can add that to her imaginary friend named Carla-Dasha.  Should I be concerned?  Am I letting her watch too many Disney movies, in which the heroine talks and sings to the birds, squirrels, mice, rats, and other critters?

She has got the most amazing imagination and the innocence that goes along with it makes for an interesting combination.

I shouldn't be surprised that she thinks the birds are her friends and that she talks to them.  I talk to birds too.   It usually comes out though as yelling or muttering under my breath.  Especially at this time of year when all the little birdies are busily building.   Because at 4:00am, the cacophony is sometimes unbearable.   It has often led to deadly thoughts.  Namely, of me with a gun, pitted against the feathered fiends who've taken up residence in the trees surrounding our backyard.   Sounds hostile, no?

It leads me to thinking about how great it is that a child can be so in tune with the natural world around that she can express so freely “the birds are my friends.”  And then I know, I could never shoot anything.   The guilt over the fact that it even crossed my mind has me cringing.

Having grown up on a farm in the mountains, we had fields and trees, creeks and streams, trails, forts , and access to the river.  And a whole lot of nature.  And I am so grateful that my grandpa, my parents, and a couple of aunts and uncles still live there.  Because that means I still get to go home.  And talk to the dogs, cats, cows, and birds.   And I get to take my kids there.   It's the best place on earth.

And by the way, the background picture, taken from the logging road about three miles up the mountain from the farm's driveway.   I am so blessed.