When we moved to our current home in 1989 it was winter, January to be exact. Our community was covered with snow, it was cold. We had neighbors on both sides of our property…the land behind us was a hayfield field which could yield three cuttings during a “good” summer. Though we enjoyed our somewhat rural setting, we always knew that eventually our “hay field” would be sold in order for someone to build homes. That’s exactly what happened in the 90s…a local builder came along, bought the field and put up homes on a small drive that extended almost to a wooded area beyond the culvert where the last home was built. More development came later  and our neighborhood took on the appearance of a small subdivision.

Families have come and gone from several of the homes. When our first spring of 1989 arrived, we discovered that a woman to the north of us–two doors down–owned a small menagerie of animals. She had goats, ponies, and a few dogs. Our kids loved watching her goats and ponies graze in their small pasture; they’d stand at the fence and talk to them, pet their small faces when allowed. One of the ponies was blind and on one summer day had escaped through the fencing, becoming frantic, walking in circles until my husband rescued it, getting it back to the safety of the pasture. 

Fast forward to the 2000s and we’ve got the family behind us who have chickens and ducks. They are considered “cage free” I guess because with the arrival of warm weather they spend most of their time outside their shelters. In fact, these birds wander to our yard and devote a lot of time looking for bits of food…bugs (I hope)…and the ducks especially like our ditch when it has swelled with water from spring rains. Our frontage also collects a lot of water, creating a welcoming “swimming and splashing pool” for our roving ducks. Friends driving past our home have asked “when did you get chickens and ducks?”

The five or six chickens like our yard, too. I have found them on the deck, under the deck, walking all over the yard as they too peck the ground for bugs and seeds. We’vejokingly called them “our birds”…until we’ve now had to do some cleanup of the deck from their droppings….suddenly their cuteness is waning…

A warm welcome to the month of May has been the ability to open a few windows, leave the slider open to the deck, leave the front door a jar, all allowing warm fresh breezes to fill the house, emptying out the leftovers of winter’s staleness. Doing so has come with a minor hazard. Already a few ants have made their way into the house, probably looking for a small crumb to fill an empty belly. What they have found is an early demise under the weight of my big toe or foot.

All this wandering from  these critters has me thinking. Clearly, they have homes that were built for them, food sources provided by their owners, water…but they aren’t content to stay put. Because they are allowed to “wander” with no barriers in place, well their little feet  take them wherever and how far they desire, which is usually to our yard, even to two other neighbors’ front lawns on either side of our acre.

Which brings me to these musings….How often do I wander from the “things” that have been provided for me that offer safety, nourishment….a sense of staying inside healthy boundaries….how many times have I joined a conversation that isn’t mine? Asked a question in an attempt to prompt  juicy details to evoke gossip?  Giving unsolicited advice…trying to fix or rescue someone who is struggling when truthfully some of the best victories and healing come from having to face hard stuff on our own so we can fight our way out from darkness to light…or like my pesky ants, looking for “something” to satisfy my empty belly or heart in all the wrong places…

My windows are open this morning…I can hear songbirds…maybe some warning signals too? And, true to their habit pattern, our ducks have meandered from their shed, quacking their early morning conversations as they make their way along the north boundary of our yard to the ditch where leftover rain water awaits them for yet another daily splash-a-ganza. They will not only perform this small parade back and forth once each day but usually several times from sunup to sundown. 

As I listen to the beautiful songs…hear the rhythm from quacking visitors…I’ve enjoyed my own morning routine, too. Time has been spent feasting on God’s Word….writing my prayers for Him to receive and ponder His answer…reminding myself “to whom I belong”…offering gratitude for His provision and above all, HIS healthy boundaries…limits that keep me from wandering off to places, people or things where I don’t belong…keeping me out of dirty water, even when  having my own “splash-a-ganza” looks quite enticing.

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