Living In The Jungle

The other evening as I retired to the porch to watch the neighborhood and the sun go down, a mother and her two little girls dressed as fairies walked past. One of the little girls announced they were going into the ‘jungle’.

I thought for a moment of going down to the fence and tell the girls the yard is not a ‘jungle’ but a forest for squirrels and chipmunks and rabbits, but thought better of it. In today’s world it is better to give a grandfatherly wave than an explanation to a stranger.

After all the rain this week, it does feel like a jungle. With the shade the moisture stays and when the sun does come out – Wham! Humidity preached about in Southern history. All the trees are bowing low bearing fruit and puddles abound. Once the rain stops, the soil will be spoungy and perhaps soft enough to allow digging up stumps. Even got a emergency warning on the phone.

Tomorrow I’ll put out more seed and blueberries and peanuts to watch the natural circus instead of another royal wedding and someday may tell those little minds about the adventure of Puppywoods.