cleaning more than the yard

I got my hands dirty this morning. The backyard needed some attention after the storm – the Spanish Lime trees have been busy dropping their little green gems and one might imagine how messy a single one can be much less three very mature trees. After the big blow there was much to clean up. Gardening is a time for reflection, and I imagined the homeowners of years gone by picking up the fallen fruit from the same spot of grass. I dug deep into the soft piles and plucked out every seed, even the rotting ones. A summer version of an Easter egg hunt. The good ones were placed in a paper bag to be shared with neighbors on the lane. I could almost hear the voices of little kids from days gone by calling out “A dime a bushel!” as they wandered the streets & alleyways of Conch Town selling this sweet and sour crop. Mario Sanchez captured that scene so wonderfully in one of his works of art. I looked at my palms, stained by the juice and smiled at the dirt under my fingernails. Yesssssss…

Shortly after a long hot shower, I met a friend at the marina. My boat is not new. A classic vintage from the mid 80’s complete with white and maroon vinyl seats, she still has striking lines. They don’t make them like they used to, and this one’s a keeper. God knows I can’t sell a gas guzzler in today’s market anyway. She’s like an old tennis shoe; you can't part with what’s comfortable. Lucy, Mom’s Yorkshire terrier, met Ashley’s Pomeranian Chihuahua named Taz and with lunch in the cooler, we were underway.

Lucy took to the water with no fear. Taz loves to swim so Lucy had to prove she was a better paddler than her new boyfriend. She headed right for shore. A competitive trait of alpha females is to either lead or get out of the way – we don’t follow very well. Laughing, Ash & I let the dogs have their fun.

Along our walk at Woman Key, we came upon a baby bird struggling in a hot and shallow tidal pool. Poor thing, it was exhausted and we thought all it needed some TLC. But, we also thought that of Mother, too. I gently held the little bird in my hand and waded back to the boat. A Florida Fish & Wildlife patrol was in the area & as they approached they scolded us for having the dogs on the beach. But our concern was the little guy now cupped in Ash’s hands. The officers were confident the baby would recover on its own and took it back to the island to a nesting area off limits to people. They believe in letting nature take care of its own – leave it in its natural environment and let the universe do its thing. I now second guess my intentions with that little bird; were we wrong to help? Would it survive the stress of being handled by human hands? Did we violate the Prime Directive? Should we inject drugs into cancer patients to kill what’s killing them? It’s in our nature to help the helpless. Like the way we reached out to rescue that little bird and set it free, Mother will fly again.