Where the wild things are...

Early mornings in Maine during the spring and summer make you appreciate what you have. Our yard is awash with birds. The rose-breasted grosbeaks are back, and Bob has spied the Baltimore orioles, though I haven't had that luck yet. The goldfinches are back to their canary yellow hue, shrugging off the winter drab, and the feeder outside the kitchen window is the wildlife version of a line at the all-you-can eat buffet.

This morning, as we left for Andrew's t-ball game, we saw a large wild turkey sauntering across the road, right into our yard. This evening, as we came back from getting ice cream, we spotted a large doe pronking towards the woods as we rounded the corner towards our house.

The evenings still have a bit of a nip, though the days have warmed up. Last night, we watched the fog roll in and settle in the lulls between our small hills. Being at the top of the hill, we watched as our neighbor's lawn became encircled by fog within 20 minutes.

It's times like these when you appreciate that, if nothing else, having a dog gets you outside to look around.