Buddha in the Garden

    For a few years now I have been turning the garden toward the needs of wildlife. It now holds numerous sources of water, a growing retinue of native plants, and a couple of home made birdhouses.   One lonely bird box is attached to my office shed; last year, while I did notice at least one chickadee sizing it up, it remained empty. This year was different. In spring the chickadee came back, sniffed around, and decided it was good. The nesting soon began. I regret that I didn’t pay very close attention in April and early May, but around the third week of May I was admiring my emerging asters when I thought I heard some wispy little voices emanating from the box. Nonchalantly I poked around the garden, noting the vigorous growth of a two-year old elderberry, the small beetles on the goldenrods, the ants pollinating the cherries and currants. The voices were slight, and I wasn’t entirely sure I heard them at first. But after a few days it was clear the whisper