My excuse for not blogging is for the birds. Actually the birds have inspired me to finally write a post. It’s kind of a long story, so hold on tight.
A little while ago we thought spring had sprung in the Midwest. And then came a snowstorm. In mid April. Not really unusual, but bothersome for those of us who live in regions of long, cold, snowy winters. April is the time for blooming daffodils, not five inches worth of wet, sticky snow. Right? But it happens sometimes, and it happened again this year.
Because it was supposed to be spring, the birds were abundant as they are in the springtime. And then it snowed and it seemed they didn’t know how to react to it. Luckily Husby still had the feeders full of seeds for them to fortify themselves. And they did. All of them. Dozens of them flocking to our backyard. There were cardinals, sparrows, chickadees, finches, juncos, red-winged blackbirds, even ducks. Either they perched on the feeders or pecked at the seeds that had fallen on the crusty snow.
Of course springtime brings in the robins. There were indeed robins in the mix of all the other birds; however, they don’t normally eat seeds. They like worms and bugs in and on the ground. The robins were at their wit’s end because alas, the ground that was snow-free a day ago was now covered with the aforementioned five inches of freshly plopped wet snow.
There was a robin who wasn’t happy with the lack of a green, springtime ground (containing the worms and bugs) and started to demand justice at our back door.
I don’t know if it was just one bird, but it wasn’t just one time. The robin(s) returned several times, and with the plethora of other birds flocking the feeders and ground below, I started feeling a little like Tippi Hedren.
Here’s the thing…
Husby has been hearing a tap-tap-tap on the bedroom window lately. That would be a second-story window. Every now and then he sees a robin, tapping on and brushing his wings against the window. I haven’t witnessed this, but the ledge outside the window has robin droppings, and the window itself has feather marks. Dirty feather marks. Not like the feathery passing of Jack Frost, because Jack Frost is gone by now.
I haven’t noticed the robin(s) at our back door since the snow has gone, but the upstairs window continues to have visitors.
Robins are a welcome sign of spring, but yikes – don’t peer into my windows!
I still haven’t captured a picture of the bird(s) at the bedroom window, but Husby sees the feathered, peering bird from time to time.
It’s kinda creepy,
Oh the things they saw! The lights and sounds and colors made the boy and girl feel alive and excited. When something caught their eyes they would sit and converse. Yes! They interacted with lobster fishermen and even ducks! The wonderful thing about conversing with those who lived in this land was that they paid the boy and girl for spending time with them. It wasn’t as if they were desperate for company. No, they were just grateful to have the pleasure of visiting with such nice people like the boy and girl. After all, the boy and girl were known for their pleasantries and fine manners.
His presence was all around her though, and she felt it very strongly when she happened across Alfred Hitchcock. Surely her brother must be near, as she knew he occupied the same space as Mr. Hitchcock. For a brief moment she wondered, is this strange land heaven?
Auntie B's Wax 