The small herd we feed in our western NY back yard.

One of the unexpected pleasures of getting older is discovering that we don’t need quite as much excitement as we once thought we did. At least I don’t. And that was a surprise!

A busy calendar used to feel like a full and worthwhile life. But now,  a full life includes sitting quietly by the window watching the squirrels crack open nuts. Or watching deer feast on the fruit I cut and put out for them

There is something about aging that changes our relationship with time, have you noticed? We become less interested in rushing through it and more interested in inhabiting it. We notice things we might once have walked right past:

The flash of a hummingbird darting away after hovering impossibly still over a flower.  A squirrel burying something it will never forget where it put. A coyote slinking silently along the edge of a road.

We stop. We watch. That small encounter can feel like an event. Like savoring the true richness of a slower life.

Wild things, you make my heart sing!

Pancho, my favorite squirrel in our California back yard.

I think aging has taught me something our younger selves didn’t always understand: ordinary is not the opposite of wonderful.  In fact, ordinary can be extraordinary when we are paying attention.

There’s  something deeply calming about watching an animal go about its ordinary life. No performance. No explanation. No concern about tomorrow. Just instinct and movement and survival. The basics.

Our own minds are busy, busy, busy, moving backward and forward.  But wildlife exist almost entirely in the present.

Simple life

The birds who frequent our feeders don’t require conversation. The deer don’t care what we accomplished today. The squirrels aren’t interested in our age, our mistakes, or the things we wish we had done differently.

They simply arrive and live their little lives, and we are privileged enough to witness them from our front-seat row.

Over time, these creatures become familiar. The squirrels in my California back yard have names and personalities. The deer in my Webster, NY yard don’t, at least not yet.

But they’re not pets. Not possessions. They’re neighbors. Companionship without obligation.

We may never know where a particular deer came from or where it goes when it leaves our yard. But when it returns, there can be a strange little thrill of recognition.  Oh, there you are.

Perhaps aging makes these “relationships” more meaningful because we understand more deeply that everything changes.

The bird will not be there forever.  Neither will we. There is something poignant about knowing that.

When we’re young, we tend to think in terms of years ahead.  As we age, we become more aware of the preciousness of a single afternoon. Ten quiet minutes watching a small herd of deer have supper becomes part of a full life.

Those moments are enough

Majestic young buck in NY.

And maybe that is one of the gifts of growing older: learning that enough can be wonderful.

These wild animals also remind us that we are still part of something larger.

Aging can sometimes make the world feel smaller.  Our routines change. People we love disappear from our lives.The roles we once occupied may no longer define us. But nature doesn’t retire. Life continues all around us, and we are still invited to watch.  I find comfort in that.

And perhaps there is even a little wisdom in becoming an observer.

I spent much of my younger life trying to make things happen. I built a career, solved problems, pursued goals, and worried about things. My younger colleagues would tell me “I can’t imagine you ever retiring!”

Eventually, though, I discovered the pleasure of simply witnessing. I don’t have to intervene. I don’t have to accomplish anything.

I can just sit with my coffee and watch a world that was here long before us and will continue after us. And for those few minutes, I belong to it.

So if you’re lucky enough to have a yard, a garden, a balcony, or even a window with a view, don’t underestimate what is happening outside.

Bird feeder with attachment so squirrels don’t empty it in our California back yard.

Put out a bird feeder. Some walnuts in shells for the squirrels. Plant something that attracts butterflies. Leave a little wild corner where nature can do what nature does.

And then watch.

Because one of the loveliest things about getting older may be that we finally have the wisdom to appreciate what was always there.

The wild world doesn’t need to be spectacular.  It doesn’t need to be far away.

Sometimes, it is right outside the window.  And sometimes the greatest adventure of the day is simply noticing who has come to visit.