Monday, August 3, 2020

Not-So-Barren Wasteland

Day 295: Although this post is nominally about the Barren Wasteland ("nominally" as in "named"), the real news comes from the House of Chirp. For the last two days, I have been expecting one or both (or more?) of the fledglings to pop out and take wing. Yesterday, it appeared so imminent that I stood for a long time at the kitchen window several times throughout the day, but as evening settled, I saw mom make one more food delivery and one empty-beaked pass as she tried to lure the kids out of the box. They were still there when I gave up the vigil, but this morning, no little beak appeared to greet me as my toast was browning, no movement disturbed the white feather visible just inside the door. I stepped outside; not a sound came from the House of Chirp. They must have flown right at dawn. Nor did I see any swallows on the wing as I scanned the sky. Be well, be safe, my little grandbirdies! There will be a clean house waiting for you next spring, a home where you or your parents can start a new family.

Now as for the Barren Wasteland, it occupies the space between my viewpoint out the kitchen window and the garage wall where the House of Chirp hangs. I cannot see much of it from the kitchen because the window is too high, although when I had tall Cosmos out there, they rose past the sill. The Rudbeckia is tall enough, but set too far east to be seen unless I lean over the sink. The Barren Wasteland is far from barren now, although when I first moved here, it was nothing but grass and weeds interrupted by the wooden lid to the captive-air tank's pit and a concrete slab of undetermined purpose. When I cleared it of undesirable vegetation and tried to plant vegs in the soil, they failed without exception. Over the years, I've thrown out packets of seeds in the hopes that something would take firm root, transplanted "unkillable" plants like the Rudbeckia and Rose Campion, and by and large, I've let it go as wild as it wanted. The result is an "English garden" style hodgepodge of colourful survivors, both native and cultivated, but the name has stuck. The Barren Wasteland will always be the Barren Wasteland, despite the fact that not a square inch of soil can be seen through the dense vegetation which now covers it.

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