How fortunate I am to spend a lazy day
Looking out across my gardens, trees and shrubs.
We planted these to maximize their attributes
From every vantage point inside or out:
Their scent and shape, bloom and texture, what winged ones seek.
Today—a tranquil Sunday—is perfumed with pine,
The residue of laying mulch delights me still!
A grosbeak flits behind my back; I turn in time
To see him give his mate first dibs at our feeder,
Full this morning, but now below the half-way mark.
Skittish with me so close by, his red breast flashes;
A black and white whirly-gig, he speeds across the yard.
His plain brown mate, more trusting, takes a seed or two
And coasts downwind to quench her thirst from one of two
Small pools as if to say: “Men can be rude, you know!”
Dueling hummingbirds protect their turf mightily.
Are they mad at me for feeding them a nectar
More dilute than early spring, or do they notice?
How blessed I am with time enough to watch my guests
Eat, drink, and frolic through my garden greenery.