Our property has about 27 acres of forested land. Big trees, little trees, dead trees and live ones. I have learned about the highly toxic black cherry, whose leaves are the most fatal when withering, and I have learned how to identify a black gum tree without a shadow of a doubt (cut a wee branch along its length and look for the central, rectangular "cells" in the pith, like a stack of little blocks). I can identify hickory, swamp maple,tulip poplar,sassafras, sycamore and dogwood as well as the seedlings of pawpaw. Pretty good for a Canadian girl who hadn't seen any of these, growing up! The woods here are an entirely different entity than those of my childhood, and it has been humbling and fascinating to learn about so many new species.

It is amazingly ironic, then, that one of the countless birds around here chose to create a nest - not in one of our many trees, heck, no - but in a rickety metal ladder we had leaning up against our "portable storage facility" at the front of the house (yes, the back portion of an 18-wheeler. Scenic, no? It has been here so long that I don't notice it anymore, which is probably a Bad Thing.).

The kids like to climb the ladder to check on the baby birds, while I fear for the birds' safety and wonder what the heck the parents were thinking.

Every day is a new adventure.