reclaiming the back yard

I have been so deeply involved with the fate of the baby bluebirds - both batches. But I am delighted to be back in my own back yard. No sign of the Little Face who had been peering out of the hole before we left (and who may have exited a little prematurely, to judge by the report of the cat sitter on Thursday). No ominous stray feathers. And no tragedy inside the bluebird's house - just another tidy, perfectly empty nest. I do wish that I'd seen the grand exit, the first trying out of their wings, the dipping flight away from the nesting box.

But it is wonderful to be out there, tearing out tumbleweed, peering for Perseids, letting Lucy have an unsuccessful stab at hunting lizards (she, Emmett and Lola are allowed out under the very strictest supervision, since we now have a wall), and admiring the hollyhocks against the sunset.