Harmony with Nature?

Every spring I hang three ferns on our front porch.

Ferns1,2,3

Every morning I walk out our front door to water those ferns.


Our front door

Every year the same thing happens: As I approach a fern to water it, a bird blasts out of the plant with an explosion of wings and feathers.

And every time it happens it just about gives me a heart attack.

This year, though, not only is there an occupant in fern #2, but we also have her.

Perched under our front porch

The first morning I walked out she flew from her nest and perched on a Crepe Myrtle nearby, chirping and squawking and hopping mad.

I felt bad, but gosh darn it I needed to water those ferns.

So the next morning I took a deep breath, invoked the help of St. Francis of Assisi, and opened the front door.

Good morning Mommy Bird. I'm going to walk very slowly and water my ferns. I won't hurt you, or your babies; in fact, I am a good friend of St. Francis. You know him, don't you?

I spoke softly, I walked slowly, and although she eyed me suspiciously, I watered and she stayed in her nest.

And so it has become our routine. Harmony with nature, right?

No. There is still that occupant in fern #2 who, even though I know it's coming, still gives me a heart attack.

Every single time.