I've been seeing a lot of Mother Nature's babies this year. There was a baby hummingbird in the rock garden and there were baby robins in the tree out back. I saw a baby partridge hiding under a fern and baby ducks jumping off a rock into Stratton Brook. I saw just the tips of two tiny fawn ears in the grass along Route 16 and two roly-poly fox kits playing on the side of the road.
All these sightings have honed my awareness of babes in the woods and my senses are heightened; I'm always watchful, waiting for the next thrill. My eyes dart toward anything that moves.
Last evening my better half, Forrest, and I were relaxing on the porch when a tiny black thing flew past my nose. I tried to follow it with my eyes, but it was as fast as it was small and it quickly rounded the corner of the barn and disappeared.
I sat up straight and excitedly asked Forrest, "Was that a baby bat? I've never seen a baby bat before!"
He stared at me for a moment; his forehead crinkled in bewilderment and said, "Most people would call it a moth."
Time to stand down the senses.
L.E. Hughes is a columnist, writer and owner of Diamond Corner B&B in Stratton, Maine. She welcomes your thoughts and comments: firstname.lastname@example.org.
© June 2005 Lew-Ellyn Hughes. All Rights Reserved and Retained by the Author.