Writing Frustrations and Bird Poop

Bird poop is not pleasant. It’s messy, and one of the worst offenders around here right now are the robins. Once winter is on the wane, I’m always delighted to welcome the earliest robins. They’re harbingers of spring, after all, and that makes me smile. By summertime, however, I’ve begun to tire of the white accumulations that adorn our deck

In praise of “the birds of the heavens”…

Rufous Hummingbird (female) ~ awake at dawn darting through strands of mist the flower-seeker out of heaven still glittering the hummingbird Larry Gates ~  ~ ~

Things In Common, Or Not

They arrive together, an unlikely pair – a female Red-winged Blackbird and a Black-capped Chickadee.  Sometimes the male Blackbird comes, too, and then the Chickadee waits on the sidelines, resting on the tip of a cedar trellis for his turn at the birdseed. They’re here every morning for breakfast before the other chirpy horde arrives.

Held Hostage by a Robin

On May 12th I commented on the annoying antics of a resident robin. Six days later he is no longer “fluttering at” our windows, but throwing himself against them! One by one I have closed every blind in the house.   This morning resounding thumps wakened us at 6:30 a.m. He had found the only

Cheekiness Personified!

What a brat! We refill our birdfeeder whenever its emptiness threatens a famine for our favourite birds, usually once a week. Top-ups have been happening with increasing frequency, however, since a non-feathered diner discovered the easy pickings.   Yesterday the squirrel managed to dislodge the lid so he could climb right inside the seed-filled cylinder. 

Guilty Pleasure

The dead and rain-sodden body of a tiny chickadee lays on our deck beneath the kitchen windows. He evidently misjudged his route between the birdfeeder and the nearby trees and collided with the glass. It happens so seldom, but whenever it does I have the urge to stand in the window like a scarecrow for

Becoming Visible

. Visibility can be a good thing (or not) depending on the circumstances. For the large Northern Flicker on the fir tree outside my window seclusion seems to be a priority. He hovers there, checking out conditions at the suet feeder before homing in for breakfast, but whenever I step close to the window he