Sometimes the foilage nextdoor felt slightly oppressive.Wild vines grew over the fence into our yard (I already showed you a photo of it in the May 28 "Choosing Black" post).
Some of the tree branches spread out not only into our backyard but also into the yard of the apartment next to us.
pic: What it used to look like behind the apartment. Do you see the one vine starting to crawl over the fence? That multiplied.
I remember silently hoping the neighbors would hurry up and DO something about their backyard, since those vines were beginning to grow carpets across our back pavement, requiring constant cutting.
Well, a few days ago, some workmen came and chopped down that tree plus hacked away at the vines that were invading neighbors' yards.And that yard nextdoor feels much more open and free, much less threatening than before.
But that also means that from a few days ago, we have no longer heard the singing of the bush warbler (April 27, June 15, July 22 posts), whose home had been in that tree.
pic: What it looks like now. The "Oppressor Tree" was cut down, but gone with it is the singing that had grown familiar and dear to me.
Kinya asked me this morning, "I wonder where that bird went?" I don't know. Maybe he's filling someone else's ear with song, teaching him that sometimes outwardly oppressive surroundings may be abodes for special blessing found no other way.
There are trees and vines on the other side of the house. I've decided to "soak up" all the good music they afford--not the bush warbler's song this time, but the cuckoo bird's call.
I used to dislike the cuckoo bird, when I found out it was a brood parasite. A brood parasite--it lays eggs in other birds' nests. The chicks hatch and push other eggs out of the nest to monopolize the food brought back to the nest by the parent bird.
But with the bush warbler gone, I found myself wanting to hear even the cuckoo.
That is not a clock outside the window, although it sounds so regular and clear. It's a real live bird in those branches!
