to his face and in the starlight he could see that it was shaking.
Chapter Six
The Nest
The weather was unpredictable in Hayley’s Point. One day , dark rainclouds raced across the sky as if their lives depended on it and the next day Lauren would wake up to a solid blue sky void of anything but birds and sunshine. Today was one of the rare days where a few fat bottomed clouds sat low in the sky, their white fluffiness a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky. A strong breeze from the north kept the June sun from being completely unbearable. To Lauren it didn’t matter what was going on in the heavens. She would take her morning walk on the trail come rain or shine. She hadn’t seen much rain during her time in Hayley’s Point but that was probably because it was summertime and the rainy season didn’t start in northern California until October.
Lauren was already up to dozens of different species on her life list. There was one species she’d yet to see, but that was about to change. Lured by the melodic song of what she suspected was the elusive Northern California weaver, she crept through the trees and off the beaten path.
The wetlands were a scavenger hunt. Behind a bush, in the trees, beyond the next bend… You never knew where you’d find your next great discovery. Lauren found hers in a white alder tree with scaly bark. The old tree straddled the property line of the refuge and the mansion.
Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, s he lifted her binoculars and adjusted the focus. When the image became clear, her breath caught in her throat. There they were. A pair of Northern California weavers feeding their young in their nest.
Their purple and green feathers shone metallic in the sunlight. What a rare gift to be able to catch a glimpse of a bird on the cusp of extinction! They were so beautiful! It was a shame their population was on the decline.
The name didn’t do justice to their stunning beauty , but they were called the Northern California weaver because of the tightly woven nests they built and because they could only be found in the Red Valley area of Northern California. To limit other predators from harming their young, the weavers built their nests in early summer when the bird population in the area was at its lowest.
Lauren might not have noticed the nest if the dog hadn’t alerted her to their presence in the tree. She still wasn’t completely sure where he lived. He just sort of appeared on the trail whenever she went out for a walk. After he disappeared down the trail last time, Lauren thought she’d imagined the yellow dog. But when he returned the next day, she knew she hadn’t been seeing things. This morning he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and eager for another adventure.
He whined at her feet and she shushed him.
“I wish you could see how amazing they are,” she whispered.
As wonderful as it was to discover the weaver’s nest, it would have been even better to have someone to share it with.
Chapter Seven
The Woman in the Field
When JD dumped his empty cereal bowl in the sink, movement in the field beyond the window caught his attention. It was probably just an animal. He’d seen deer and jack rabbits come so close to the house that they’d sent Mel into a tizzy. Speaking of Mel, JD looked around and he was nowhere to be found.
JD squinted at the window and tried to make out the figure. This wasn’t some animal grazing in the field. It was a woman. Mel trotted happily beside her as if it was something he did every day of his life.
JD might not have seen the woman over the tall grass if it wasn’t for the huge hat she wore. The way it bobbed up and down was odd too. What exactly was she doing? Jogging?
She came out into the clearing and it became obvious. The woman was skipping. Skipping . JD couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a grown woman skip. Probably because the last time was never . Mel was practically skipping as
Chapter Six
The Nest
The weather was unpredictable in Hayley’s Point. One day , dark rainclouds raced across the sky as if their lives depended on it and the next day Lauren would wake up to a solid blue sky void of anything but birds and sunshine. Today was one of the rare days where a few fat bottomed clouds sat low in the sky, their white fluffiness a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky. A strong breeze from the north kept the June sun from being completely unbearable. To Lauren it didn’t matter what was going on in the heavens. She would take her morning walk on the trail come rain or shine. She hadn’t seen much rain during her time in Hayley’s Point but that was probably because it was summertime and the rainy season didn’t start in northern California until October.
Lauren was already up to dozens of different species on her life list. There was one species she’d yet to see, but that was about to change. Lured by the melodic song of what she suspected was the elusive Northern California weaver, she crept through the trees and off the beaten path.
The wetlands were a scavenger hunt. Behind a bush, in the trees, beyond the next bend… You never knew where you’d find your next great discovery. Lauren found hers in a white alder tree with scaly bark. The old tree straddled the property line of the refuge and the mansion.
Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, s he lifted her binoculars and adjusted the focus. When the image became clear, her breath caught in her throat. There they were. A pair of Northern California weavers feeding their young in their nest.
Their purple and green feathers shone metallic in the sunlight. What a rare gift to be able to catch a glimpse of a bird on the cusp of extinction! They were so beautiful! It was a shame their population was on the decline.
The name didn’t do justice to their stunning beauty , but they were called the Northern California weaver because of the tightly woven nests they built and because they could only be found in the Red Valley area of Northern California. To limit other predators from harming their young, the weavers built their nests in early summer when the bird population in the area was at its lowest.
Lauren might not have noticed the nest if the dog hadn’t alerted her to their presence in the tree. She still wasn’t completely sure where he lived. He just sort of appeared on the trail whenever she went out for a walk. After he disappeared down the trail last time, Lauren thought she’d imagined the yellow dog. But when he returned the next day, she knew she hadn’t been seeing things. This morning he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and eager for another adventure.
He whined at her feet and she shushed him.
“I wish you could see how amazing they are,” she whispered.
As wonderful as it was to discover the weaver’s nest, it would have been even better to have someone to share it with.
Chapter Seven
The Woman in the Field
When JD dumped his empty cereal bowl in the sink, movement in the field beyond the window caught his attention. It was probably just an animal. He’d seen deer and jack rabbits come so close to the house that they’d sent Mel into a tizzy. Speaking of Mel, JD looked around and he was nowhere to be found.
JD squinted at the window and tried to make out the figure. This wasn’t some animal grazing in the field. It was a woman. Mel trotted happily beside her as if it was something he did every day of his life.
JD might not have seen the woman over the tall grass if it wasn’t for the huge hat she wore. The way it bobbed up and down was odd too. What exactly was she doing? Jogging?
She came out into the clearing and it became obvious. The woman was skipping. Skipping . JD couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a grown woman skip. Probably because the last time was never . Mel was practically skipping as
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