Senses on a Suburban Spring Evening

What I see:

1. at least a dozen kinds of trees growing both fresh and new, and strong and tall among the over two dozen trees surrounding us
2. a little dog's forest worth of ferns
3. a few plucky birds out almost past their bedtimes
4. lightning bugs
5. lots of lightning bugs
6. around an acre of freshly shorn, fresh, green grass
7. hot pink roses
8. clematis
9. vines and more vines!!!
10. flowersflowersFLOWERS!!!!
11. plants soon-to-flower and those which will not but are beautiful in their own right because of their million shades of green
12. the swooping bats which I always refer to as "my bats"
13. a freshly filled hot tub
14. a riding mower
15. the tranquility of the cemetery behind my house
16. the neighbor's child's child's play-set
17. ...and a few pink, plastic flamingos

What I smell:
see numbers 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and 13 above
and
a grill in some nearby yard cooling down from the busy day
warm concrete

What I hear:
see numbers 3 and 12 above
and
children playing in a yard (catching lightning bugs?)
a nearby screen door--the old-fashioned kind-- opening and closing regularly with a "whoooosh," then a "smack!"
some creatures scurrying in the brush and plants around the house
very light Sunday night traffic on "my" two busy streets

What I feel:
warm concrete beneath my dirty feet and under my ample ass
a mosquito and some gnats lighting repeatedly on my skin

What I know:
my oldest baby boy graduated from high school today
I have the whole summer ahead of me with my boys, my dogs, my friends, and--for a week--the ocean
my boys are safe and having fun with friends tonight
I'm about to eat a tub of mashed potatoes and gravy and a few biscuits with honey for a late supper

What I taste:
joy

Early Blood

(Neither a Rambo movie nor a feministic pondering of menarche.)

I'm up late, or early, or whatever, reading and a mosquito is buzzing relentlessly around my body which is sprawled on my couch. It doesn't seem to light at all the entire time and when it does--seemingly for the first time--I smack the bug, squashing him flat and feeling the squish beneath my palm. When I raise my hand several large and bright red droplets of blood show me that I was wrong. He had landed. And with that realization, I immediately begin to itch.

It's the Ciiiiiircle of Liiiife

It's a lazy Sunday on the couch with the Times and I happen to glance out the window just as a strange "pop" emanates from the waste vent pipe on the roof of the service garage down the block. I see something that looks strangely like a bird arc out of it and hit the ground. Then I notice the hawk--I'm not sure what kind, but not an overly large one--which has been sitting on the roof of a neighbor's house swoop down and snatch up the bird, which is about ½ the size of the hawk. The hawk must've heard the trapped and/or injured bird and was waiting for a solution to how to get this easy prey.
The hawk clamps in its jaw the bird by its midsection. Nate and I listen while the bird expires. Sad squawk-y screeches and then nothing. The hawk is being vigilant all the while, it's head moving around to keep an eye out for predators and rival hawks, I guess.
Finally, he clamps the bird in his massive claws and starts plucking and eating. He plucks a bit, feathers flying and floating on the breeze; then he eats a bit, stringy, bloody grossness hanging from his beak.
We live in the suburbs of a large city. Less than a mile from three different "ghettos." We never saw anything like this when we lived on the farm in Lancaster County. The chemicals had killed off all but the mice and the barn swallows and barn cats there. Since we've moved here, I've checked many birds off in my birding book. I've known squirrels well enough to name them and be sad when they stop coming around and have had the pleasure of sitting on my back porch at dusk and watching "our" bats keeping our large yard relatively free of bugs.
The world continues to amaze and educate me.