bird in the hand

Recently I've gone to the birds. Specifically the the birds that have made our backyard their playground. It started with the Cardinal, which has to be my favorite bird ever and one I consider my animal totem. Whenever I was struggling emotionally after my parents died and I slipped outside into the backyard to breathe or think, or not think, there always seemed to a cardinal sitting on the fence, or flying past me with a quick chirp. That flash of color, the beautiful sight of those cardinals always made me feel a bit lighter of spirit, brighter in my heart.

As with anything like this, I became obsessed, so I read up about cardinals, put cardinal figures in my office, in my car. I tend to over obsess when I'm interested in something. Whenever I saw one through the kitchen window, I would stop and just watch as it surveyed its surroundings and sang away. Seeing the male & female pair flit about the grass looking for food together never failed to make me smile.

My family gave me a bird feeder and a bag of Cardinal food for Christmas and it was one of the best presents ever. To compliment that bird feeder gift, Giggles made a clay Cardinal figurine for me. I keep that in my office, on my desk, where I see it everyday, remembering the pride in her eyes when I opened it, seeing evidence of the love in the crafting of the detail.

With the weather being more hospitable to sitting outside with a morning cup of tea, I've been spending considerable time plopped in a patio chair, with the camera and a pair of binoculars. Bird Watching. Who knew it would be so incredibly fascinating?

The Cardinal has been camera shy, or is just fucking with me, and I suspect that latter, since this morning I got off one shot before he flew away and the minute I went back into the house both the male and female were hanging out at the feeder. I swear they were laughing at me.

I get an unbelievable amount of pleasure from just watching the birds swoop in, nibble on some seed and zip away. It's peaceful and fun. There is an amazing level of social dynamics going on in my little bird neighborhood. Currently there is a territorial scuffle going on among the Morning Doves, as it appears a new single guy is trying to move into the hood. I watched the male of another pair repeatedly chase him off, but the new guys persistent.

The variety of birds I see seems to differ minute by minute, I suspect the chirp about food readily available is being shared from nest to nest and I'll continue to be amazed by the colors and song as new birds make their way to the community. I mean I knew they were there, I just didn't know how many different ones were there. And now they all like to come and hang out, eat some food and make some noise.

The birdsong that filters through windows in the early morning is a great way to begin my day. Happy, uplifting and sweet. I'm starting to identify the cardinal, from the woodpecker, from the nut thatch. I think. But these are the sounds of the morning hours as I make tea, shake the web of dreams from my brain and get ready for the day. All in all not a bad start upon waking.

Thunder has decided she's guarding the feeder against the squirrels. She was very disappointed to learn the feeder is squirrel proof, a fact that really pisses the squirrels off as I see them, sitting on the edge of the deck, trying to figure out a way to get to the seed inside. But the weight of the squirrel on the feeder triggers the outside cage to slide down and block the access holes, preventing squirrel raids. I like to think they've given up, but those squirrels are crafty and determined. I'm expecting a full on assault any day now.

Thunder is convinced  too, so she's keeping a vigilant eye on things, just in case it gets out of hand. 

Me? I'm going to get another cup of tea and hang out and listen to some bird song.