birds and ashes

The mountain vacation was a Colo-palooza! Nine breathless days in the gloriously glittery high country air.
It was a fun time to enjoy friends and family. There was a theme to our trip this year. A couple of things I hadn't experienced before.

The trip was NOT mainly about canoe races.

Nor was it about the courageous souls who braved the zip line.

Uh...didya think to bring some dry clothes?

It wasn't about winning at mountain golf or lining up the perfect putt.

Yes, smarty. I missed the putt.

It wasn't mainly about fishing, even though we fished and caught a respectable amount.

Walter is still out there....FYI.

And it wasn't about going on long death marches with uber-fit mountain bichons.


Helluva mountain dog if ever there was one!

Nor was it about the ginormous amounts of food consumed at our humble dining room table.

Miles from a fast-food restaurant!

The theme of this trip was the robin's nest in the window!


Can you see the debris hanging down from the corner of  the second window? That's our bird's nest.



Each day dawned a new chapter in the life of our robin family. We even stayed out of the sunroom so as not to disturb our growing young family.


The mother AND father were industrious and faithful in taking turns feeding the babies. The dad-bird would squawk and cause a commotion if you got too close to the nest.

The father bird with a meal for the young 'uns.

It was something extraordinary to see the workings of this family...even though robins are considered a rather ordinary bird.

Watching the bird's pin feathers pop out day-by-day...we were astounded at the rapid changes in the babies.

This mother was faithful and protective. She sat on the nest at night and during some noisy rain/hail storms.

The second theme to our trip was ashes. Mom's ashes. Since her death in February, I've been mulling exactly what to do with her ashes...she couldn't spend eternity on our bookshelf at home! The decision was made early on to take her to the mountains. I just couldn't come up with exactly where to lay her earthly remains...in the water...on the hills...under a tree...scattered to the four winds-what?


The black plastic box containing her remains sat on the fireplace mantle and waited. I admit it...I was having some trouble. Maybe I wanted it to be too perfect. My children and family gathered around and reciting the ashes to ashes Bible verse. Sorry Mom, I couldn't make it work out like that.


One afternoon (towards the end of the trip...I was feeling pressure) I bounced up from a little nap and told the Texan.
'Now....we're taking Mom up the hill and spreading her ashes near the guest house where she spent so many summers with us.'
The Texan found just the right spot in the center of a circle of small pine trees overlooking the lake and just up from the guest house.
 
I gingerly poured her out of her plastic bag and surveyed her view. I kissed the Texan and we walked down the hill and back to the house. Unceremonious, perhaps...but I think she would approve.
 
She would've adored the summer of the robins.
 
Safe, nesty love to all