Hoping a cat doesn’t crash the party

Rat-a-tat-tat. That’s what my husband and I woke up to the other morning. What the? I threw open the bedroom curtains and looked out. A woodpecker fluttered from the roof of our house to the fence, after pecking on the aluminum flashing of the house. It was either being harassed by or was in some sort of game with some juncos that raced through the branches of my tiger eye sumac.

The gallivanting birds weren’t the biggest surprise. It was the literal fowl festival in my backyard. Not only the woodpecker and the juncos, but there were robins, hummingbirds and finches. After the juncos finished dive bombing the woodpecker, all the birds landed on the grass in my backyard.

When I was in the yard a few days before, I noticed spider-like insects crawling through the dead grass. I’d never noticed them in past years, but I can’t say I had ever looked down, either. Unlike ants, they weren’t interested in crawling over feet. I ignored them. The birds, however, had a feast. There were enough bugs all over the yard, that every the bird could have their fill without interfering with the other. Thus the inter-species harmony.

It was one of the most amazing scenes I’ve ever witnessed. You couldn’t even script such an event. I would have taken a photo or even a video, but there was no way it would have captured those small creatures flocking in my yard. Seeking the source of that rat-a-tat made me take in the drama of fall: sun glistening on the dewy foliage, fresh air after an early morning rain, trees and shrubs making their last minute show. A little slice of heaven in my own backyard. Until we let the cat out.

Where spring explodes with the color of new blooms, fall flings its color forward, grasping on to the last bits of life like an over dramatic teenager. It makes me think of when my own daughters were dramatic teens and starting the new school year. The tension of hoping they’d like their teachers or hear about it all semester. My less-then calming words explaining how those irritating teachers were practice for their adult lives when they’d encounter all sorts of people they’d have to learn to tolerate.

Now as far as parenting is concerned, I can honestly say that I have finally come out the other side. And it’s not because my daughters have moved out and they’re on their own, I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen, but I have let go of their schedules and business. They tell me what they’re doing instead of asking if they’re allowed. They inform me of things they want me to know, rather than me trying to pry stuff out of them. It really is their business. I have to let them go. That’s not to say I don’t worry, but I’ve gotten better, I’ve quit obsessing, they are adults.

I’m enjoying this side of the parenting world. My husband and I are making decisions about our lives together rather than how it will affect the kids. We eat out, go to the movies, and go on vacations without consulting our children. So as I observed the fiesta in my yard that fall morning, it seemed especially poignant to me. It’s time to figure out what it is I want to do now that I’m not washing my kids’ laundry. I’m enjoying my newly retired husband’s presence and looking forward to fall, when I can tuck in like those birds in my backyard. I just hope a cat doesn’t crash the party.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing on her website livingwithgleigh.com, on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh by Gretchen Leigh.” Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Life section.