|The tree outside my kitchen window.|
|Rooster Chicklet waking up to a new day.|
|Nancy (looking up) and unnamed siblings with Mama David and Aunt Boomer.|
|Elizabeth and Slim having a serious discussion.|
I was greeted by these early morning sounds: A constant and high-pitched noise coming from the tip-top of this tree; The sound of a rooster crowing loudly coming from the hen house.
Rooster Chicklet was awake announcing the night's hen house invasion. An unknown predator had slithered, crawled or flown in during the night and wiped out all the eggs in the nests including some that had almost hatched under Mr. Gibson. Mr. Gibson did manage to save two of her new healthy chicks.
Pursuit of discovering the tree commotion was next. It was kitten Nancy in distress. By the time I was in a hysterical state of worry pondering how to get Nancy out of the tree, she made it down on her own and sprinted to the breakfast table. She seemed to be asking me, "What's the big deal?" as I applauded her safety.
Meanwhile, Slim had a little Te-ta-Te with the goats and made sure Elizabeth remembered who was really in charge around here. Elizabeth abandoned the argument with Slim and proceeded to bully her sister Polly.
By nightfall I was able to see my dry and dying tree as beautiful again. It stood there in the dark, basking in moon glow. I went to bed without thinking about how much shorter that stately tree's life is going to be unless we get some rain soon.