We have a pair of cardinals who eat the striped sunflower seed in the morning we throw out on the lawn in the evening.

A pair of titmice (titmouses?) have nested on top of one of the pillars outside the livingroom. When distrubed from the nest, they like to sit on the bent chair back of the white wrought iron loveseat we placed on the lawn overlooking the stream, where they can keep an eye on things. We hoped somebody would sit on that seat!

A pair of Carolina wrens have built a nest in one of the petunias we have on the balcony overlooking the lawn and stream. We watched them bring the leaves and twigs. The first day I threw it out. Then we decided to let them keep it. Unless they've abandoned it in the last day or two, seeing that I water the plants every morning.

The human baby's due on Sunday! Spring is busting out all over.

Not to mention the iris which is gloriously blooming now, purple at the edge of the woods, yellow down by the creek. We just watched a king snake slither slowly along the railroad ties where we think he has his winter home. We like him: he eats rodents and keeps other snakes away. Or so they say.

It's the first of May. We've been here one year and three months today. I meant to write when the daffodils came out. I meant to write when the wisteria was in bloom and winding through the thickets of trees across whole village blocks and covering acres of woodland. I meant to write when white dogwood blossoms layered the forest. I meant to write when the ubiquitous azalea was at its peak. Now the snakes are out again basking in the sun, and here I am. That'll tell you something about me!