Oh, I meant to also write that when my Cherokee teacher and I were out in her yard toward the end of fussing with the chicken wire and planting potatoes, I noticed a mockingbird that was hanging out in the corner of the yard. Seemed he was there flitting back and forth the whole time we were in the yard. But I only noticed him after taking a break from the potato condo adventure.
I commented about him to my teacher and she told me that he’s her good buddy and he’s always out with her in the yard when she comes out.
“Oh, he always comes and hangs out with me. He gives me all the news of the neighborhood, all the happenings. And he’s a very likable fellow,” she said.
“Oh, so you guys are good friends?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. He’s been around for a couple of years. The first year he built his nest with his mate in the Japanese maple just off the house and I tried to warn him. ‘Yo, dude, you really don’t want to do that, because I’ve got all these cats [she had nine cats living there until last year when her daughter moved out]. But he still built that nest and he and his mate lost all of their eggs. It was so sad.”
“He did not listen to you.” I said
“Well, the next year he listened and he built their nest up high in the holly tree there by the fence,” she said pointing at a 35 foot holly tree just inside their property. “They’ve raised some healthy chicks there the past few years and none of the cats have gotten up into there.”
About 10 minutes after she told me about the mockingbird’s nest fiasco, I leaned against the fence to take a break and the chain link strip of it rattled all the way down to the corner of her property, about 100 feet. I was tired and being rather mindless and did not realize the mockingbird had been sitting on the fence toward the corner.
“Oh! You scared him off!” she said. “But that’s okay, he’ll come back around pretty soon.”
I felt bad immediately and called out to the brambles beyond her yard, “Sorry!” I couldn’t see the bird, but knew he could feel my intentions to be apologetic.
Then some crows started circling and cawing up high in some very tall trees that bordered the upper part of her fenced yard.
“Oh, we’re just putting in a garden. Calm the Fuck down… We’re just going to plant some veggies and other things. That’s all we’re doing!” My teacher yelled up to the crows.
“What were they saying?” I asked.
“Oh, they were going, ‘What the fuck is going on down there. What are you doing?!'”
I guess we were getting approval from anyone and anything out there in her yard. Including the crows. Hmmm… There are lots of crows at one of my clients gardens and I wonder what kind of critique they’ve been making on our gardening work there. I’m not sure I want to know. ;~)