Day 20 or 5.28.25 taking care of the babes

Today I watched a sparrow couple and three babies twittering away on the edge of a field. It was such a mystery. Where was their nest? How did they arrive there and would they be okay? For now, the babies in the hot sun were being attended to by their parents…but who knows if there was a plan for night fall. It looked dicey. The babies could almost fly but not well. They were little and still a bit fuzzy.

sparrow chicks looking like Edward G. Robinson, “Look here, see?”

You may remember at the beginning of this marathon I observed ants herding aphids on my cherry tree. As promised, last week, I attended to my cherry pie ambitions by putting a sticky band around the trunk to keep the ants from crawling up and down to tend their herds. I know there are still ants and ant babies that need food, but hey, I planted that tree! I’m done sharing! Today while assessing how my garden might look better, I was a little relieved to notice another tree is being cultivated by ants to herd aphids. The other tree is not precious. It is a volunteer cottonwood tree that grows in and through a plastic pot in the corner of my garden. In fact, the pot cannot be moved. The tap root is strong and firm though the bottom of the plastic pot. Because it chose to live in a pot (at least cosmetically), it looks intentional, on my part. What luck!

Here is an ant on my cottonwood tree with its herded aphids.

The tenacity of nature is heartbreakingly beautiful. Some of the biggest dramas from birth to death seem to be about taking good care of someone other than one’s self. Maybe not if one is a cottonwood tree growing in a pot, but I could be wrong about that. The reason I looked at that annoying tree that I can’t move, today, is because its leaves were doing fascinating things. Undoubtedly a reaction to stress. I won’t show you a photo, it’s a little gross…but also a little inspiring… There are so many creative and unexpected outcomes from stress. It’s funny, it’s probably stressed out that it planted itself in a pot. Oh…well…

“What’s wrong with stress?” someone once asked me. I guess I mostly agree.