A Rakish Fellow

I enjoy Autumn. I prefer raking leaves to mowing grass. The rake is lighter.

On Sunday I decided to start on raking leaves. Our oak tree produced well this year, acorns the size of marbles are scattered across the lawn and front walk. I like acorns, but it isn't fun to try to walk over them with your hands full of groceries. Armed with my rake, I began scraping together the leaves into a pile. Sierra grabbed her little rake and helped.

Raking can be a very meditative experience. Anyone who has read my blog knows my feelings about blowers. The noise of the blower is not conducive to hearing, let alone meditating. But the crisp air coupled with the gentle scratching of a sturdy rake grounds me to the natural world and allows me the pleasure of marveling over God's creation. Sunday was no exception. As I pulled the leaves away, I pointed out the bright orange fungi growing near our tree stump to Sierra. God likes bright colors. Our trees haven't completely changed color yet, but I have seen some brilliant orange, yellow and red as I drive around the area. When the sun hits those autumn leaves it dazzles the eyes.

And then something interesting happened. Sierra had run inside to press a nice yellow maple leaf. While I was alone, scraping around the bird feeders, a white pigeon practically dropped out of the sky and landed no more than 3 feet away from me. Not the least bit intimidated, he walked closer to me and started picking at seeds while I was raking. I've never seen such a tame pigeon in our area. When Sierra came back out, I had her get some more bird seed and she scattered seed for our friend. He didn't mind having us so close. I wondered if he were lost, although I don't know anyone in the neighborhood who keeps pigeons. Sierra was able to touch his back as he ate. I continued raking my pile and then went over to the bird. I easily picked him up and checked him over. My father used to raise pigeons when I was a kid, so I knew a little about handling birds. He seemed healthy, although somewhat light. He wasn't too crazy about the checkup. When I put him back down, he rushed away. Sierra followed him into the backyard where he flew up into the trees. I was glad for that. When you own a cat that hunts, you want the birds to be able to fly to safety.

I found him again on the fence alongside our house. He let me stroke his chest before he flew up to our roof. Hubby and Marina were out hiking at Bear Mountain that day. By the time they returned the bird had disappeared.

End of story? Not quite. This morning hubby came in to our room and asked me to guess who was sitting on our doorstep. Our little friend had returned! I wish he could talk, because he obviously wants to tell us something.