As I mowed the lawn yesterday, I saw a newly fledged robin. It would hop away and seek cover when I came near. A couple of times, I had to stop to give that young bird time to get out of the way.
Later, I was sitting in my recliner and reading when I heard a strange sound. Almost like a dripping faucet–but not quite. I headed for the kitchen to locate the sound’s source. I heard it again. Not from the kitchen, but from behind the door that leads to the end deck.
I peeked out a window and then carefully opened the door so as not scare this little guy. Yes, it’s the same one I had seen earlier out on the lawn.
Here’s hoping this youngster is able to fly before being found by the neighborhood cats.
The other day, I was walking down the driveway on my way to the mailbox. As usual, my eyes were searching for anything different or unusual. That’s when I saw it there in the driveway.
Some egg thief seems to have enjoyed a meal. You can see small puncture marks on the left end of this egg shell. Do you think it was another bird? Or perhaps a mammal?
Fortunately, that is not a green egg.
‘Twas the first of May. Robin sat in the apple tree with his feathers fluffed against the chill air.
Hand-held shot with my Lumix zoomed into a 1200 mm closeup. The anti-jitter algorithm in that camera is fantastic.
Robin’s breast looked much redder to the eye. Sylvia saw him first and called my attention away from the Sunday funnies.
They say the early bird catches the worm. If I’m a worm, I’m sleeping in. That’s all I have to say.
Until the other day, the only daffodils that I saw in the flower beds were the dark yellow variety. Then these with lighter petal appeared.
Hiding, almost out of sight, I found these.
Oh, yes! Aren’t they beauties? There’s still another variety, but it usually appears later than the rest. Okay by me. That stretches out the beauty.
For the Birds
As I sat at the breakfast table this morning, I finally saw him. I’d been hearing his song for the last week or so, which meant he was close, but not visible. The bright red of the cardinal sitting on the garden fence caught my eye. I was glad to see him.
As the cardinal left, a robin landed on the lawn near our window. He would do his bob, bob, bobbing along routine, then stop, cock his head to one side and get a little closer to the ground. Then he’d pop back up, bob, bob, stop, tilt head, peck at the grass and come up with something to eat. I watched, enjoying the show until he flew off on another errand.
These are good days.
Yesterday, as I was enjoying a [seasonally] warm day, I heard what I consider one of the first sounds of spring. The red-winged black bird’s trill.
It looks like we may be in for an early spring this year. I can handle that.
You may look for robins, but I’m watching for the turkey vultures. Okay, I’m looking for robins too.
Two weeks ago, I was sitting in the dentist’s waiting room. There, I found myself once again looking at a framed picture on the wall. It shows a split-rail fence with iris and larkspur growing beside it. On the end of the second rail down, an American gold finch sits eyeing the world around him. I’ve always enjoyed that scene.
As I sat there, my thoughts strayed. I began to put myself into the picture. As I did, appearances began to change . . .
In my mind I was walking along a little-used trail. At the edge of a meadow, a large rock beneath an oak tree provided a seat to rest my feet as I drank some water.
It was one of those Michigan-perfect days. Blue skies and a warm gentle breeze set the scene. Behind me, I could hear a woodpecker at work. Near my feet, ants went about their urgent business. How relaxing.
Then, I heard a flutter of wings as a finch found shelter on the near end of the second rail down of the fence. There she sat not moving, nearly hidden in the shadow. All was quiet.
I looked up and saw the kestrel as he flew over, his sharp eyes searching for the next meal. After a short while noises began to return, and the finch flew off on her way.
That’s when they called my name and I stepped out of the dream and back into reality.
I was following Sylvia to the body shop. Our mission was to have the stone pecks in our windshields repaired. When we got to the paved road (insert Jeff Foxworthy joke here), we turned right and drove almost two miles. That’s when we saw the roadkill on the center line. A hungry feathered friend was enjoying a meal.
Northern Goshawk – courtesy of Audubon.org
We don’t often see a goshawk. For that reason, it’s always very special to me. This one flapped her wings a bit as Sylvia’s Jeep passed. She was still there when I approached in my car. She only looked up as I slowly passed with wonder-filled eyes.
Today, the high temp is forecast at 60 F. It’s almost there now. Winter? As the cliché says, “So far, so good.”
I recently shared my experience of seeing a red-tail hawk split in two. Actually it was a pair. I had been seeing red tail activity for some time when that happened. Since then, I’ve seen the pair in close proximity to each other on several occasions. The day after sighting the “split,” I saw the male fly while the female remained on the power pole.
Look between her toes. What is that?
Looks like lunch to me. What do you think?
I didn’t like having branches in the way so I moved to the front door. The next day, I captured this image.
When I tried to capture a second, sharper image, she flew away. I was left with an empty frame. Some days seem to be like that.
High in the birch tree sat a bird. It was not one of the normal cast of characters. With my unaided eye, I could not identify the species. Seven power binoculars didn’t help. The camera, however, did. I had to process the images a bit.
I believe this is an American Kestrel (Sparrow Hawk).
The swallow-like tail shows better in this shot. When it flew, it looked a lot like a swallow, but larger.
It is obviously a member of the falcon family, but which? Can anyone help with the identification? Sharkey?
Phoebe watches over our garden
For the last several years, Phoebe comes to stay with us. We must grow nice bugs for her to eat. You’ll usually see a pair (sometimes two), Sitting on the posts or fence around our garden.
She sits still as a statue and then swoops down, grabs a snack and returns to watch for another. There are times when she has to land in order to dig out one from among the grass in the lawn. On the garden side, it’s usually much easier.
I enjoy watching these beauties as they help us by controlling the bug population. Being fly catchers, they are also very agile on the wing.
This, of course, begs the question, “If Phoebe Bird married Brad Beebee, would she be Phoebe Beebee?”