Otto and I have been enjoying the sight of two spotted little fawns in our backyard. Their Mama is nowhere in sight. After we supposed to be her babysitters? At least this time I had a good camera vantage point to take pictures of them. The fawns were spooked a bit when I opened the window. I got several pictures with both fawns, but they were in retreat at that point and don't show up well in a blog-sized photo. The one in the picture, however, seemed fascinated with my camera (or me) and kept turning its head to observe.
I seem to be at least temporarily marooned on the bedroom floor of our house, having left the hospital with written instructions to rest, and to walk 5 to 15 minutes twice a day. This floor is the second if you count from the front door and the third from the backyard, as our house is built on steeply sloping land. There are views from east, west and south windows, so some of my entertainment is to explore with my trusty digital camera. Yesterday I observed that Otto's trumpet vine has put out small clusters of blooms here and there. It is a very badly behaved vine, having been intended to cover and hide the neighbors' chain-link fence. While some tendrils stay on the job, others reach for the stars - or at least the next higher branch in our heavily wooded area. The photo is of a blossoms at least fifteen feet above the base of the deodar tree it is climbing. Perhaps I will post more trumpet vine pics when it is in full radiant bloom.
We spent an uneventful Memorial Day weekend, but watched the PBS Sunday night Washington DC national Memorial Day Show. I was shocked at the emphasis on armed forces and all of the nation's "glorious" wars.
While I felt enormous sympathy for the show-cased bereaved families and the Iraq and Afganistan wounded, sent home with possibly irreparable damage, I still remember when Memorial Day was Decoration Day. We would ransack the garden and carry arm-loads of flowers to the graves of our own dear dead. Some had served in the armed forces, most had not.
In the words of cartoonist Walt Kelly's Pogo, "We has the met the enemy and they is us."