Yesterday was full of natural excitement, for me anyways.

Mike had his own adventure, first. He has been mulching leaves non-stop for the last few weeks, and I've been busy weeding the flower beds and gardens so that we can layer the mulch around all the plants and keep the rest of the weeds at bay for awhile (or more likely, for a week or so). Being the hippies that we are, we usually work in sandals around the house for some reason, and he felt a thump on his one foot as he was raking. Good thing that little copperhead had bad aim - he hit the leather instead of flesh. And for him, it was the last chance he got at that sort of thing. This was in part of the yard we don't let the boys play in, and precisely the reason we're trying to clean it up and rake it out.

Then while weeding, I found a pile of little bluebird feathers. As sad as I was about its fate, I collected the feathers for my collection, which led me to an upturned nest and five abandoned baby blue eggs at the base of an azalea bush. Not the best place for a nest, it turned out. But it was still perfectly formed, so I placed the eggs back in and gave it a spot on my shelves near the feathers. Beautiful!

Then while cleaning old planters, I rescued a black widow spider and found her a quiet far away place in the woods. On the way back, I stopped to check on the spot I've been clearing. This summer, I hope to build a small survival shelter there using only things I find naturally. But in the area I raked out the day before, I noticed I had uncovered parts of an underground carpenter ant colony. I watched them busily recreating the sections that I had messed up, and helped them a bit in places. I want to build this in a place where it won't interrupt too much of the natural beauty around it, so I raked a new area just to the right.

And I capped off the day watching the red-tailed hawks and crows fight in the trees across the opening behind the back yard. The large red-headed woodpeckers started their foraging just before dusk as usual, spreading out into the forest in different directions. Another day slipped into night.