Lynda Dunnigan –  MIDCENTURY CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

 A  bit of the then and the there worked themselves into my here and now as I gazed out the window at dawn on a late February morning.  You see, it was my father who taught me to love, respect, and commune with nature, and though no longer a child,  I still am drawn to spend a little time gazing  through the window as the world wakes up.  Bathed in the warm gentle glow of the rising sun, once bare tree branches burst with buds, and jonquils and crocus, having pushed through leaf blankets, bask in the warmth and brighten the landscape with bursts of green, bright yellow and purple. As the sun rises higher, I watch squirrels scamper to the ground while overhead  a rainbow of birds  flitter and twitter between feeders or feast on holly berries.  As a family of rabbits hop from their burrow under the deck to dine on succulent sprouting dandelions,  deer amble out of the woods.  Making their way to the seed block, they displace a gang of five crows  loudly refusing to relinquish feeding rights, until hooves close in.  Because size matters, they take flight, settling on branches of a nearby tree to voice displeasure at  being displaced. With so many hungry mouths feeders empty quickly and all anxious eyes focus on my window. Chatter increases, alerting me that it is time for Dunnigan’s Feed and Seed to replenish empty seed and suit baskets. Task completed, I watch renewed activity around now full feeders.  I enjoy the sun‘s warmth and remember  early morning  nature sojourns and conversations with my father  as together we watched  the world wake up.  Those memories and his words of wisdom ring true, that an understanding of the world in which we live begins with an understanding and respect of and for the natural world. My wish for you, that each new day begins with a look through Mother Nature’s window.