By Sherry Hopkins

Community Columnist

It seemed like an omen of sorts. As I sat down on the old porch glider Monday morning to have my first cup of coffee I saw the big Red Shouldered Hawk sitting atop my mailbox. He sat still and quiet for a long time and just as Dear Don was coming out to join me he flew to the pond.

We had not seen the hawk since he became a father. We thought perhaps he had taken his new family and relocated.

But there he was just after sunrise hunting from the low perch of the mailbox. Then as we were taking the first of many breaks that morning along came that beautiful Western Tanager we spotted last week.

He landed in the nearest Crepe Myrtle tree and stayed long enough to get the binoculars out and marvel at his coloring. I don’t think we have ever seen a more beautiful bird. We are tickled that he is still here.

I was in the side part of my yard raking magnolia leaves to burn and the phone rang. It was an offer of a job. Someone who knew someone who knew me had recommended me for the job. And somehow in all of the someones Bro. Bob Self was involved in the decision to hire me.

Several years ago I would sit and wonder and ponder this turn of events trying to analyze how it came to be.

I have stopped doing that in my life. I know exactly how it came to be. It was from the hand of God and if I was not completely sure of the fact that Bro. Bob was involved was convincing for sure.

I had been looking for something part-time for about 18 months and nothing seemed to fit me and I seemed to not fit anywhere. So I just became patient and decided if it happened it did, and if not, that was OK, too.

I will write more after I actually get all the details worked out. But for now I am pleased that something has finally come through that will “ease the constraints of tight straps” as Dear Don says. As for all the someones involved I thank you and I am indebted to you for thinking of me.

Before the phone rang that morning and while raking those heavy wet leaves, the southern wind was bringing shades of my childhood to me with the smell of the lake.

As every breeze wafted my way I stopped, closed my eyes and savored the smell. I remembered orange life vests heavy around my neck with the muddy water. I remembered bacon frying in the iron skillet as Mama prepared breakfast on the Coleman stove. I remember Daddy stoking the campfire knowing we would be cold when we first exited the tent. I remembered being lulled to sleep by the waves gently rolling to shore. I remember skiing and swimming and playing and cousins and friends and boats and the heady smell of gasoline and oil. All this from the scant moments I caught a breeze.

What a day Monday was. The kind of day you hope would repeat itself often. The hawk and the tanager were not omens for that day. They were coincidence. Friends and friends of friends were the angels in my life that day. I don’t know how I got so lucky in life, so blessed. But I know from whom my blessings flow.

Stay tuned.

You can contact Sherry at swhcsc@wildblue.net or 662.563.2525