The Emergence of the New

Posted on March 23, 2011 by Leslie

Today was just one of those glorious days, the kind of day I’ve been missing and forgotten what it feels like. A day that is the harbinger of spring. Warm in the sun, no wind, the body just responds and feels good, happy.

I’ve spent the last few weeks, in a random way, making 4 new bluebird houses. I’ve gotten attached to MikethehowtoGuy whose simple guidelines I’ve followed, with a few modifications since I don’t attach my houses to poles. Two years ago I made an observation house and took photos of eggs to babies. That house was cruder but did the job. The first year no birds used it, but then I heard it sometimes takes 2 years before they take up residence and sure enough it did. These houses have a clean-out flip-out side door and are not for observation. They take about 2 hours to make and are easy for a beginning carpenter like myself.

My new bluebird box

Another new box 5' up on a tree

Today as I was putting the finishing touches on my last house, last years’ pair of bluebirds came to inspect their old house. What a welcome sight! I greeted them and asked where they’d been, what mysteries they’d seen, how they’d fared on their long journey. I felt a kinship with them for I too spend a few months in the winter working in California.

Old observation box that is in use

Just last week I saw a bluebird in the desert and my heart jumped, for I knew they’d be up here soon, the first heralds of spring. Then I heard a chorus of Sandhill cranes, yet another indication that our long and cold winter is coming to a close.

In another month the hawks and eagles will begin nesting, along with my pretty bluebirds.

Golden eagle nest from last year with cliff swallow nest below.

The elk will move up country to calf in the Lamar; the wolves and coyotes will have their litters and settle into their dens; and the earth will be renewed once again.

Having lived all my life in California, the appreciation of new life isn’t quite as obvious there. Their seasons are wet and dry, and liveably warm all year. The best time to plant is in their winter, and the time to rest is in the dry heat of the summer. So I’m appreciating this obvious renewal.

In our modern world, we seem to always be on the road to ‘elsewhere’, that elusive moving target of completion of tasks, errands, or even our well-being and happiness, somehow always lies in the future. But these little bluebirds today, back from their long sojourn, happily checking out their old home, reminded me: Go slow, for life is a circle and all comes to pass in good time.