Yesterday the weather was just about good enough to take morning coffee sitting outside. Not warm, but not too cold and the light rain was warmish.
So there I sat with my feet resting on the little garden water feature, and I use the term 'feature' loosely, when my blackbird pal flew down to take a shower in the water feature totally unconcerned by my presence. My presence being no more than two feet from him. Seeing this, the other little guys up in the apple tree, sparrows, noting that I didn't have my little bow and arrows, came fluttering down and joined in. They obviously sense I'm not going to hurt them, or, owing to their superior numbers, sense my fear.
If only they could talk. If they could talk it'd probably go along the lines of, 'Hay, buddy, you wanna get your feet off our shower feature?'
Anyhoo, sitting there surrounded by these little feathery guys, before being driven indoors owing to the rain getting heavier and colder, I felt a tad like that ol' saint guy wot took care of animals an' birds an' such, wassis name, Francis on-a-Seesaw or similar. It was nice.
As for the pidgins, they start beating on the window if food isn't out in the garden by nine thirty o'clock of the AM in the morning time. Then, when you finally do open the door to distribute the food, you get those annoyed huffing and tutting noises pidgins are so well known for.
The blackbird; is it really the same guy from back when? I have no idea as I have no idea how long blackbirds last. {'How long blackbirds last'. Is that right?} Although if the 'back then' guy had some sort of supernatural thingy going on, age wouldn't come into it would it? He'd just always be here, right?
Oh, oh. Medication time……
Quote; Rich Johnson.
"Growing up, my Mom always claimed to feel bad when a bird would slam head-first into our living room window. If she'd 'really' felt bad, though, she'd have moved the bird feeder outside."
No comments:
Post a Comment