Plenty of pecans sprouted this fall on our pecan tree. First came the squirrels, to check if they were edible. They dropped half pealed ones to the ground and waited a few more days before they returned. A week later came the wild parrots in a noisy splendor, screeching, cackling, advancing creation’s symphony to human ears who love hearing them. They were a group of twenty or so. They had a feast; their manners unfurled in view of their Creator. Keep them safe, I murmured, till they return; they belong to You.

There were plently left on the tree as they flew away. On this same morning, a clan of local crows followed them; not a large group as the wild parrots. These know the ins and out of our neighborhood. Lofty and loyal to their relative crows, their little ones grown by now and able to feed themselves. With their strong beaks – as black as their feathers, they break open the shells of pecans with no difficulty.

Indeed, I am laughing with the birds and the squirrels right here where I live. Lately we heard a new guest close by us, a hooting owl after dark. I doubt it would care for pecans.