Uncle Bucky's Lucky Duck

What happened when Daisy duck made the decision to pass the ladder? Daisy passed on the left hand side and she was sure that Mrs. Owl had told her that that was the only safe way to pass the ladder. The right or under or even over the ladder had negative bad luck consequences. She didn't remember what those consequences were but she was sure that she was going to elude those consequences.

Daisy Duck is a superstitious bird.

Waddling is okay and everything, just not too close to the ladder. When I got to the park she was standing in one spot and I couldn't tell how long she had been in that condition.
Someone had told her that ladders were bad luck. She couldn't recall whether it was walking around the ladder or to the left of the ladder or under the ladder was unlucky. She stood there trying to remember which was the lucky side and which was the unlucky side.
I saw her and she wasn't phased by anything that I had to say to her. She was figuring which side was the lucky side and what to do to un mess her luck if she was wrong. She was stuck.














I watched as she made her decision which way to go. Everyone else at the park was enjoying the sun and the water. All was pleasant and bright. The Goose family was practicing their formations: line formation and star formation and they are presenting a new teardrop formation at the New Years paddle parade. They had quite alot of flaws to work out of their formations but they have a few days to work on it.
New Years up north is too cold for such goings on, but the southern birds have an entire shindig planned for New Years' Eve night.

Walking?...in a Winter Wonderland?

Not even the smell of a white Christmas, down here in NC. Not even the hint of a frosty snow covered lawn on Christmas day. It is still the most wonderland Wintery with my family!
I spent the morning walking through the frosty aisles of the supermarket with my most respected woman of God who is in my life. We giggled and pontificated and came up with all sorts of dreams for now and tomorrow and it is truly beyond what we both could've thought or imagined except there is no son in law yet to dote over. We are enjoying the love of wondering and wishing and sour grapes, sometimes:)
My dad would've joked at us that we both are so much like Aunt Lorraine, and she, more than I have never spent more than an hour or so with Aunt Lorraine. So I guess, in heaven, we will, the three of us; sit down and talk about what made us who we are. How could we three be so identical?
Dad would talk about the way she grabbed him by the wrist and the strength that she had and Tony-boy and Abby would have similar stories about me. It is a joy to live with a kindred spirit, sometimes:{.
I came in from my Christmas eve saunter with my Elyse(Suzie homemaker) and Emily and I were doing the shimmy shake and imitating Grandma Ruth in my living room to James Brown. We cannot figure out how Grandma Ruth was able to do that shimmy shake well into her latter years. I am achy from imitating her. I better get into shape to keep up with Ms. Emily. Then, we put on Thriller and my bumble bee big boy taught us how to do the Thriller dance in the living room. We pretended that the sugarplum fairies died and came back as the Thriller dancers and we danced around the living room as the sugarplum fairies reincarnated in a Thriller. What fun!
Ethan, the wolf man came into the room anticipating boredom. He didn't want to join the dance and he hasn't figured out how to incorporate his wolf story into the Christmas pleasantries, so he just barks at us all. Ezra is waiting for us to pull out the baking items to make the linzer tarts. Dad in his cap and I in my kerchief and nothing at all is quiet as a mouse...

It has been so very wet around here lately,

that you could almost forget that we were in a drought this time last year. The squirrel family is gaining weight and their children are now going on a special diet, unprecidented for squirrels. They had a little too much Thanksgiving feasting. Last year we were trying to find nuts to give to them.
It is amazing how the weather changes and how we can always find something to complain about the weather.
Last year, when we could see the little squirrel ribs poking out, it was so sad. This year when they are running slower and stepping on the scale every morning, before school it is just as sad. but we do have a tendency to overdo it. Don't we?
Fog and water and rain have been so prevalent that it nearly feels like...London?

When winter comes to NC..

Even Mrs. bluejay is picking out of the garbage. I saw her and she let me see her picking out of the garbage the other day.
Usually it is far below her to even sit upon the garbage, much less forage through the garbage for a tasty morsel. She considers herself far above the sparrows, who "take what they can get". This week was tight for the Bluejays and I got no more pep talks from her about showing off to my children. It is all about survival when it gets cold.
It's "slim pickins" around the building these days and all of the bird community is battening down the hatches for winter.
The finches have moved south and the other small birds are nowhere to be seen. I was reminiscing about the spring and the young bluejay couple who were sitting on the branch in front of the building for hours admiring oneanothers' reflections in their eyes. It is amusing that now, in the cold, I rarely see them on the same side of the building together.
The angels come to play the instruments earlier in the day than they did in the spring. Seems that they prefer to play in the warmth of the day better than in the cold night air. The beautiful music of winter around the building, is offset by the silence of the wildlife which is scurrying around searching for food. We are all ready to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

The economy has kept Bessie and the Heffers

away from the coffee truck lately. The first time I called them that I nearly was trampled by them. They only let their dearest friends use that term endearingly to them. That's what they are and they now have allowed me to call them that. But I warn you, don't you go calling them that or they will bolt at you as though they were bulls!
I will never forget the first time I met Bessie at the coffee truck with the girls, gossipping over the hay and chewing the cud. I saw Bessie from the rear and said to myself there goes a rear about the same size as mine and I better get jogging. She always reminds me to workout. She has a reason to be that size, I don't. But quickly we became friends and many little stories of the trip to the city and the trip to the cousins and how the girls went to the Copa and were hanging out and got tripped up in the city from those city slicker Bulls.
Now they have sobered up and are older and the economy keeps them close to home these days, but they still find a way to have a good time, if a sober time. They have been building skills and working out and teaching the little ones the lessons from some of the mistakes they made at the coffee truck and in the city. They have been tending to the little ones with gentleness and courtesy, because now they see where the city slicker lifestyle can carry a cow or two.

At lunch the other day,

I saw a big bunny dragging her babies to midday prayer. I was very surprised that bunnies pray so I took a bite of my magic mushroom to follow them and I had to grab my jacket, because I was cold. I ran as fast as I could to their little gathering under the stairs behind the building. I saw her and I ran and stumbled in the door and the sound of the clap of my thighs as I fell to the ground made all of the bunnies stop praying and look at me. I was very embarrassed, not just because of the slap of the sound of my thighs but also because I had interrupted such a solemn moment. Ma Bunny hopped over to help me up. It hit me later that I should have been afraid because I was much smaller than she was at that moment and if she wanted to she could have done me some harm. But she seemed to know that I came in peace.
I tried to be respectful of their prayer time but it was very hard because the gathering place was decorated with items that they had that seemed to remind them of God's amazing provision for them. I wanted to write down what I saw, but I had forgotten my pen and by the time they had said amen, It was time for me to go back to work from lunch so I ate my mushroom and ran as fast as I could to my machine.

The other day I caught

a glimpse of the finch family in a game of leaf polo on the bushes. Their parents are very creative at keeping the little ones active in these lean times. They made use of the same bushes where the circus had just pulled up the webs from and they were romping and playing with the baby finches with glee. These are the good old days for them. What a huge difference between them and the Robin family where Pop Robin was just counting the minutes to the robinlings departure so that he could have his wife back. He has her back now and in his glory.

I never saw a happier bird

than Poprobin, when he came back from this trip to the city.
I told you before that they had gone to New York to visit some family and hopefully find mates for the robinlings.
He got rid of the whole kit and kaboodle and when I got to work, he was singing on the tallest tree at the job. I have never seen him do anything but sulk, since the robinlings had hatched. Now he has Mrs. Robin to himself again and he is singing for joy. Joy, that he "thinks" he has her all to himself again. I didn't see her since they have returned.

The Spider Circus

Wrapped everything up and took their bush trampolenes home with them. The finch children were disappointed that the season of the circus was so short for them. Momma, I wish that the spiders would leave the trampolenes up all year long, they said. Momma and poppa explained to them that the rain and the other elements would not allow the webs to stay taut enough to jump on and that once the spiders had their savings banks full, they could take down the circus and rest for the rest of the year. Except for an occasional fresh fly or two when they got sick of the frozen food. The seasonal changes are always good for great instruction to the babies on some natural subject or another. Papa finch took the opportunity to teach a very long lesson on the saving and conservation principles. I don't have room to put all that he said.

The pompous rose bushes

have shed some of their beauteous petals to the wind and to the chill. They are humbled by the weather and though they still stand erect, there are fewer petals on them. They have lost none of their beauty, just a little bit of their pomposity.
The peonies are dancing in the breeze, while the roses are weeping at the cold.

On the way to school this morning...

we admired the beauty of the watercycle taking place right in front of us. The clouds stood erect on the surface of the water. They look like little straws all in a row. The first frost was on everything else. The grass was frozen stiff. My butterfly bush had the petals shivering for the cold. This might be the coldest day that I have been out in, down here in NC. I love old man winter! I love the fact that he comes quietly but definitively to call upon us and stops by us for just a little time, on his way to visit everybody else. He must not like North Carolina, so he came to visit, just to cheer me up and cure my homesickness.
I'm cured!

I wonder if there are some new baby birds

in that nest in the courtyard. It is too high for me to see up there. I can't even tell what type of bird built it. It is a very beautiful nest and I just can't wait to make the acquaintance of the birds who did.
It nearly tripped me, looking that high to see the nest.

The rose bushes heard me talking about the peonies

and decided to put on a dance for me today. I walk past them everyday and usually they stand very erect and pompous. They leave the dancing to the less glorified ordinarily. They noticed that they weren't getting any press, so today they danced around almost wildly but none the less in syncapation with eachother. David danced before the Lord and these royal bushes put down their regality today and praised God with all their might!

Cow manure and peonies

New sets of flowers means playing in the dirt and smelling the odors of cow manure. I love it. The colors of fall include new flowers the trees redressing in their Halloween costumes and the birds hiding out for the chilly weather.
I just can't wait for the peonies to do their fall dance for me. They are practiced and ready for the fall flower festival. The dance will bring out the best in the courtyard and will delight all of the onlookers. Those who can see their dance, those who participate in their dance and those who imitate their dance in their own way. We are not only dust in the wind. We have the delights of all of these sights and smells and thoughts and sounds and feelings to imbibe on this journey through this terrestrial scene. We usually perseverate, or overuse one or more of the senses and neglect some of the other, just as useful ones, to our own loss and sometimes deterioration.
High on cow manure and peonies is far better than high on sugar and guar gum and chocolate.

"I looked and behold there was a great multitude which no man can number..." Rev. 5:11

Our eyes will be engaged in the thrills that are prepared for us in heaven. Let us enjoy the beauty and lessons of the sights on earth and enjoy the beautiful gifts that God has prepared on earth for us richly to enjoy. I see that the bluejays do.

Tiny birds used the spider webs on the bushes

for trampolenes. They started at the left side of the bush and hopped from web to web til they got to the end. After a while they were having so much fun that momma and poppa bird jumped in. It made me wish I were a finch to watch them. Mrs Finch is far more strict with her birdlings, even than Mrs. Robin. They have to be, because they are so tiny. One mistake can cost a life. Their bedtime is while it is still light and don't let those little ones peak over the nest. I saw momma finch peck the baby so firmly and the little one went right back under the covers and went to sleep. I'd better get some of that discipline into me.

I made the acquaintance of the finch family yesterday

There was a beautiful little family of finches putting their children to bed in the tree outside my job yesterday. I just loved watching them. They acted like they didn't see me and hid under the leaves and went to sleep.

Purple Mountains Majesty

If you don't find me one day, I went rolling down a perfectly delicious hill at work. It is the perfect hill to roll down. It is just the kind that you could roll and roll and not come back from.
Mrs. Robin introduced me to it and ever since I have admired it from a distance. It is impudent, as well as immature for a 46 year old to roll down the hill at work. I guess that is why people ski. It is the thought of rolling down the hill on your feet. I couldn't think about going skiing but I would lay right down and roll down that perfectly manicured hill and thank humanity for letting me do so.
Decorum aside, of course; then, if I lived to tell about it, I would write about the feeling of rolling down that hill. I would imagine it is like the mountains at Rochdale which I was never brave enough or immature enough to roll down like everyone else. Life is too short to be too grown too soon.

The ARGUMENT

FULL MOON WANDERINGS Last night, the fawn children

left school after dark. It was a full moon, so mother Doe was not afraid that they would get lost. They know their way from school home.
They did have a little problem crossing the street, though. At first, it was dark when they touched the firm surface of the asphalt street. Betty and Denise wanted to run home, but curious Joey thought he saw some tasty treat on the ground and it was a bug. He stood there enamored with the sight of the bug on the surface of the ground when lights started to come toward him. The sisters came out to guide him to safety, but that was too close for comfort for the three and they were happy to get home to mother Doe safe and sound and tell the story over their midnight snack.

Oh, My Word! That Mr. Bluejay is at it again!

Mrs. Bluejay must've been giving me the heads up that it is always spring in her relationship. They came back from up north all full of ginger and vinegar and flitting around like a couple of younguns in my back yard. I was trying to vaccuum and they were interrupting me with their shenanagans.
Sunday morning after it was all songs and sweetypie's with them. The birds know how to keep it going.

Pop, out came a fat little acorn!

I knew you were coming said Mrs. Bluejay as I walked past her today. I saw her tug and tug at the ground and thought that of course she had gotten a juicy worm. She dislodged her treasure and carried it to my feet as an offering and a present. It was an acorn. A little larger than the one I had offered her last year when we first made our acquaintance. I don’t know what she means by this offering. I thought I had been off base offering her that acorn, but evidently not!

I started walking around the building...

What a beautiful autumn array of colors and folliage. The colors of autumn and the warmth of the south seem not to match eachother.
On my break, I get to walk around the building and admire the scenery. I see that the spiders seem to make tremendous use of this season to spin kites and sails that catch the wind and flapped profusely. It looks like there will be a contest today on the bushes for the insects to bounce across the bushes. They look like a series of trampolenes and if I were little as a mouse or a sparrow I feel like I would enjoy bouncing on them like a trampolene.
What really attracts me around the building are the hills. I want to roll down those hills and enjoy the beauty of the grass as I roll. I could just see myself landing at the bottom of the hill and crashing against the trees at the bottom.
Why did you roll down the hill, Mrs. Walker? Because they were beautiful. That is not a sufficient answer and they would take me to a hospital to study my psychosis if I would. So I hope that you young people roll down every hill you see so that you can look at the hill when you come to work and say, I know how that feels because I did that already.
The sparrows are grieving this week, because they lost another one to the bouncing against the sun on the window. I just wonder if the sparrows don't allow their sparrowlings enough freedom so that they don't fly into the window like that. I am respecting their sadness this week.

Midsummer, Early Autumn,

all my birdfriends go up north to visit their cousins and show off their new batch of younguns and see if they can marry some of them off to one another. Tradition has it that yankee birds and southern birds make the best offspring, when mixed together. Their babies have a tolerance for heat and cold. This is the best season for the southern birds to see the lights of the big city for a little while.
They don't spend too long up north, because it is just getting ready to turn chill in the New York and New England area. They don't want to be caught up there for the first frost. So I expect to see them back at the building in about the first week of October.

And God closed the Door!

The bunnies were having devotions and they were reiterating for the most numerous of times, how God had delivered their species from destruction.
As the bunnies tell it, an angel (and she doesn't know which) came and told all of the bunnies that it was going to rain and so many of them didn't believe, but their great....grand bunnies hopped directly to Mr and Mrs. Noah's house and waited for their brothers and sisters to follow. When God shut the door was when they knew that they would never see those bunnies again. Thank God for His preservative grace even to the creatures of the field!

Mrs. Bunny's unhappy lunch day!

She worked all day rolling out the grains and making the dough that would become the bread for tomorrow's lunch. It had been a particularly lean season and she couldn't just run to the store, all the time for the bread. She forgot that she wasn't homeschooling anymore and public school bunnies are most particular about what lunches they carry to school. This wasn't the store bought kind and she made them and packed them and guess what? Nobody ate the good and healthy bran bread she made for her bunnies. All dozen of them came home with the sandwiches still in tact. There goes that time saving and money saving device...

Bessie and the girls

Were gathering at the coffee truck this morning. Gossipping and chuckling at every little thing. Bessie's mouth was covered in jelly and sugar from the jelly donut that she enjoyed lavishly while talking. Her nose was still in her coffee cup when I passed the girls, on my way to work.
They make me think about the slowness of the day for the cow population of Huntersville. The labor of making milk and chewing cud looks like fun and games, but Bessie always reminds me that it is alot of hard work for them. Every creature has their labor and their reason.
Sometimes I wonder if their reason is the gossip or the chewing or the milk making.

Penelope and Peter Pony

are the 2 ponies that we pass on the way to the courts. Their parents Horace and Harriet Horsey are so posessive that they watch the ponies' every move. It looks as though they are expecting the little ones to fall on those little spindley legs of theirs.













They stay just at a nose distance away from them on their every move, their parents are parallel to them. "Back off mom and dad", I heard Peter say to his parents, and Horace and Harriet comforted one another that it is a pony's spirit to want to be more independent on their strengthening lanky legs.



















The first day or so they were stumbling and awkward but now weeks on their long legs had made the babies forget that they were just babies.

The Deer family are fans

of Ethan and Ezra on the court. We passed them today, on the way to the courts for a little tennis under the lights. They sleep like babies after such a romp.
Because of vision problems and other impediments there hitting was not like earlier times, still we had a good time. It is so interesting to see the deer family catching a romp together before the sun goes down. They don't chase tennis balls like the bunnies do. They know that we are watching them so they pose very pretty as though, if they move something will happen. Beautiful nature scenes.

Mother Bunny and the little ones

were having their final constitutional before bed by the time Enoch and I got to the courts, yesterday. They started jumping and cheering at Enoch when we got out of the car. "There is the boy who signed our tennis ball, Mommy." they told their mother. Mother Bunny was courteous but careful. After Pop Bunny introduced us the children sat still hoping that their mother wouldn't notice the fact that the sun was quickly setting over the horizon.
They were hoping for another souvenir of the day. Not this time, Enoch was hitting the ball inside the court on this day. He and I had numerous rallies and it seemed that they were not on my side. When he'd pass me, they would cheer. It seems no one taught them decorum at the tennis courts. At long last, Mother Bunny noticed that the sun had completely disappeared over the horizon and she scurried her little ones back to their beds.
While they were on their way into the thicket to the safety of their den, Enoch decided to hit one into the rafters. Mother Bunny watched it carefully to make sure that none of her bunnies were in its path. Pop Bunny was busily explaining that this was an accidental occurence.
I walked out to retrieve the ball and she grabbed it at exactly the same time I did. I never had a tug of war with a bunny before, but Mother to Mother we tugged at this ball. Ordinarily, I would have shared with her, but this was the day that we came to the courts with only 2 balls and we had already given her children a signed ball the last time we saw them. I took it that Mother Bunny was being greedy for her children and I would not let her have it.
I just love how Mrs. Bunny teaches me about loving my children by her consistency.

No teaparties this week

for the robin family. The children are getting themselves ready for school in the field. Ms. Robin had too much to do around the nest and Mr. Robin carried the little ones on short stints back and forth to school to teach them of the dangers of travelling that far from home. They are so busy that they don't see me these days.

Leaning on the EVERLASTING ARMS

On a very weary day...

I walked around the building and stopped to see Mrs. Robin and Mr. Robin flitting from branch to branch in a playful romp beside the building. I was very discouraged this day because of circumstances and my demeanor was evident of that. Mrs. Robin was in the mood for giving me some instruction on controlling my relationship.
She flitted to the tree next to me and pooped right in front of me. That was the very first time she had done this. Mr. Robin flew completely the opposite direction and then flew to the top of the building as if to say, this is a bird joke, it is over your head. The point was that all of the mess that we worry about is just poop. She was showing me that what she usually does in private; she had to show me, to let me know that everything is going to be alright. You are leaning on that building right there as though you don't have a God in heaven. We are flying and trust God for every flap. What are you worrying about? I imagined her saying.
The two of them crack me up. "That is a bird joke..."

Mrs. Swans class

was full of the top students from all of Charlotte. She had chosen them individually for their acumen in several of the areas of academic disciplines which make a bird astute. Cindy and Jen were especially gifted in music and played several instruments. Daisy and John were botanically instructed and knew all kinds of uses for the plants at the pond and in many other places. Sherry was a flight timing specialist and was very often called upon in class to do demonstrations of her prowess. Bobby and Calvin knew alot about the insects and not just how they tasted but what made them do what they do.
All together the class was alot of fun, but if Mrs. Swan didn't keep a strong hand on the class they would run all over her. She was a softee at heart, but she kept up a mean exterior so that she could keep order in the class.

A few of the duck children...

They are nearly grown now, came up to me during our picnic, to ask why Bobby pecked Daisy at the duck pond in University. What was Mrs. swan teaching them about Geometry?
The ducks in Lake Norman do not participate in higher education, as a rule. Food is so bountiful there that it is not necessary for them to engage their minds in acquiring it.
The Sparrows and the wrens were showing off how they are so well educated that they are able to calculate rates so precisely that a diamond needle is not safe hovering over the water admiring his reflection, even for a moment.
The ducks in Lake Norman stated that it doesn't take higher education for that.
They refuse to believe that those ",city slicker" University area geese and gander know more about hunting than they do. It is a real, if not humorous, source of contention between them. "3R's is all you need" Dad duck said. "Anything more than that is just pride and excess.
They read my periodicals, but they never saw the need for a bird to get as far as, lets say...Louis the trumpeter.
"Music, Geometry, the Sciences, of how people think is just filling a bird mind with wild notions." They really think that?

I had completely forgotten

that it was I who had begun the acquaintance with Mrs bluejay, last Autumn. She was waiting for the right moment to remind me of the fact that I had tried to feed her acorns last Fall. (How very aviarily ignorant.)
That seems so long ago now. Every bird that I know has had a quiver or two of fledgelings in and out of the nest and they are now enjoying the independence that comes when they fly away.
She had to remind me, because now is the season that the robins are enjoying themselves. Mrs robin has no time for me, now that her nestlings have flown the coop. So it was only Mrs bluejay and I enjoying our lunch together today. Mr bluejay is watching her from a distance these days and gives her the liberty to talk to me now. How very different from their spring fling when you couldn't squeeze a feather between them.
Imagine that...

Little Sparrow and I

have a new code at work for when I am running late from break or lunch. She sits on the side of the building with no perch whatsoever as if to say, you are cutting it close. I didn't take heed and lost 5 whole minutes in the morning the other morning. Now I am aware of her code. I thought she was just showing off to me. She was picking up worms and then did that fancy trick and I do know that showing off is not like the sparrows at all. They are so very humble all of the time, except in emergencies, like when "Mommy" is late for work, at work. "Go figure"

Outlines of the table settings were left

from the teaparty that the Robins had given and Mr Blackbird seemed very grateful to have been the first to hear that the hatchlings had been laid. Mrs. Robin, only very sparingly left the nest until she was sure that it was warm enough for her eggs to survive.
Mr. Robin slowed down on his constant bickering and picking or pecking at every false move that Mrs. Robin made and all seemed at peace with the world. It is just at such a time as this that trajedy struck the bird community.
Every so often, Mrs. Robin puts out a little safety journal about some of the important things to be careful about in the community in and about the building. This season was no different, except that with the new construction there were flying hardhat warnings and muddy big truck warnings but the ever present warning is the one about sunglare. Sunglare can blind a bird and make it impossible for them to see the window until they have already struck it too hard to survive the blow. Every season, there are those birds who either don't take heed or didn't get the communication. Mrs. Robin always takes these accidents to heart and tries to figure out how to prevent the next catastrophie.
Tiny, the sparrow was just such a little catastrophie. He stayed aloof from everyone and for 2 or three days when I went around on my daily stroll, he got so flustered that he didn't know what to do. I truly thought it was odd that he flew as though no one had gotten the message to him that I was a friend.
I was trying to think of a story about him when the worst happened and Mrs Robin was the one who gave me the very sad news. He is gone, that Tiny is. It seems that he flew directly into the sunglare in the glass on the building and did not survive. The noise was horrible. Between the construction noise and the crying cardinals, there was not a dry eye in the entire bird community. The birds are all very deliberate in their condolensces and they have a very interesting tradition of flying in condolence formations for days after the passing of one of their comerades. They don't do any of their usual chores or things that they don't stop every 5 minutes and fly around the spot to mark their sympathy with the family. I watched and felt so incapable of entering into this. I asked Mrs. Robin what was the procedure for sympathetic humans to do who wanted to show their condolences as well. She said she would look it up.

After the game of jump

the moonbeams was over. Mrs. Swan resumed her class. She was trying to show them how they could calculate the distance between the fish and the ripple that they make on the top of the water. They were clearly not ready for advanced calculated geometrical fishing tactics. It was clear that this was a very slow class and that Mrs. Swan was going to have to go ever so slowly with them.

Mrs. Swan was holding her usual evening

Geometry class at the pond. "Class" she sighed "I noticed that a great many of you are attempting to enter the water with no ripples at all, this is not good." With that said she wiggled her tail ever so gracefully, as usual.
Her class, never knew how to take what she was saying. The cobs didn't know whether to correct her or just listen. They chose the latter, in the hopes that, if they didn't interrupt, she would finish quickly and they would get back to the business of free play; which was their major these days.
"The reason I just rippled, is because, as you can plainly see, the ripples that I make flow away from my body in a circular set of rhythms across the pond." The children sighed and set back in the water for a long oration from her, there was no chance that they were going to get to play moonbeam hop on the water tonight, Mrs. Swan was always long winded when it comes to geometry. She was trying to make sure that her young students had every advantage in acquiring the food that they needed to become healthy and strong. The cobs especially took every breath that she took and every pause in her words to cause a rucus. "Bobby! that is not nice!" she yelled, while flapping her wings. You did not want to make Mrs. Swan flap her wings, it meant a note home for sure because she had wanted to hit someone. "Bobby, no pecking at Daisy, do you hear me, absolutely no pecking at anyone other than yourself! Do I make myself clear, that you will be getting a note home and have other consequences, most certainly for pecking at Daisy like that? Look at her, she is crying and all because you were trying to get her attention. Oh my, children, All but Daisy and Bobby, take a break!"
Everyone wanted to kiss Bobby for doing that, it was the full moon and they always played jump the moonbeam as the moon came onto the pond at first shine. Mrs. Swan didn't remember that when she scheduled this extra Geometry class for her growing class...

I call them Angel Flutes...

They are really wasp nests or hornets nests, but Mrs Blackbird says that late at night, when no one is on that side of the building, the angels have a jam session on them and they sound like what we call wood winds but they are wax-winds. I had never seen them before. Stuck to the side of the pillars are these wax instrument-looking things with holes placed strategically, like a recorder or a flute.
One night I worked late and I heard them tuning their instruments for the jam-session. I couldn't wait around for the concert, but only the parent birds were allowed to stay up late for the party. The Blackbirds and the Robins and the Bluejays and even some other assortments of birds traveled, from as far away as the park on the other side of the big street to hear the Angel's jam.
Mrs. Bluejay told me that none of her tunes are original. All of the songbirds stay up late and listen to the concerts and borrow the angel's tunes and share them with us.
I am glad she told me that, because when I borrow parts of tunes in my musical attempts, I don't feel so bad.
One evening, I'll be brave enough to sit up and listen to the Angel-jam!

I walked around the bend,

past the columns that house the "angel flutes" and I saw a bird flitter off, seemingly in a huff. My curious mind, just assumed that Mr. and Mrs Robin had had a spat and that he was off again, in his attitudy way. As I got closer to Mrs. Robin, I was poised with another pittious plattitude about the difficulties of maintaining a relationship. It is none of my business, except that she is my friend and everything. With all that we've been through together, I think I should say something about the bickering that I have seen them engaged in daily during this egglaying and nest building seasons. I wanted to ask her, if this is a particularly difficult laying season or is it always like this with him.
She saw pity on my face and chimed right in, not allowing me to say a word. I would've invited you to tea today, but we never know when you are coming around the bend. Mr. Blackbird came for tea today and as you can see we chose the best picnicking spot for our oldest and dearest friend."
I was off-base completely, and there was Mr. Robin, behaving himself beautifully and helping with the clean-up from the beautiful teaparty with Mr. Blackbird...
silly me.

"I Hope that you are talking about me,"

said Mrs. Bluejay when she read what I was writing, over my shoulder. I don't explain myself to birds, I huffed. I get absolutely no privacy from you. That's what friendship is all about she cried. Is your knee better? I haven't seen you showing off your wing feathers to the goslings, I mean walkerlings lately...
Would you mind your business, I huffed again. I was not in the mood for her meddlings. Good friends can say that to one another and Mrs. Bluejay wasn't taken aback in the least; she just clicked her bird feet on the branch, shook her tail at me and flew off.
The cardinals thought we had had an argument and came by to offer their sympathies to me. We did not have an argument, I said. I am trying to sort out my thoughts about something. Would you leave me alone. Them, you don't have to tell twice. Off they flew.

In her eyes,

I saw love and expectation, not a hint of accusation. This meant that the adults in her life had proved themselves as trustworthy. In her eyes, I see presence and hope and reason. A reason to reach, a reason to hope. In her eyes I see growing and desire to grow. Little people do grow up, as it says in Puff, the Magic Dragon...
Can that look in her eyes; the youthful love in her eyes; the youthful life in her eyes, stay?
I think that adulthood is about finding that look and carrying or coddling it from topic to topic until the truth of what this person who we are responsible for finds their reason. Jealousy makes us want to orient them and help them know that life is not like that. I am not like that, not as consistent as you'd wish and not as right as you expect.
If I stumble right in front of them, that look is gone! GONE, for good! I certainly don't want that.
Why I do What I do.

Quite a while ago, now

Pop Blackbird was very put out with me. I had called his training sessions a game. He let me know, in no uncertain terms that there is no funny business at all when they run their drills and training sessions.
It looked like a game of "buck-buck" to me. The blackbirds have quite a regimen and he showed me level 1, on the ground worm siting formation. Level 2 was hovering, insect retrieval, in formation still and tree to tree.
If one of his band goes out of place, he hollers and I would not want to be the bird that he has to discipline for insubordination or being out of place in the drills.
He hollered at me for calling his training sessions a game and I am certainly not one of his troop, just a friend...now.

Recently,

Mrs. Bluejay has serenaded me every morning. She sits posing and singing atop my neighbor's roof. She loves it when I show off in front of the children and my husband. Everyday she says, "Don't forget to show them your wing feathers or they never will get the gumption to show you theirs." I believe her, I have never seen her towing one baby with her.

The Robin baby shower...

was a sight to behold.
It was just the right temperature, neither too hot or too cold outside, on that day in April when I accidentally crashed the robin baby shower, outside my job.
A gracious hostess, Mrs Robin offered me some worm pudding and I declined, as politely as I know how with a friend of her high status and gracious acquaintance. She was juggling all of the family and stubborn Mr. Robin was doing his darndest to mess up the party. He seemed upset that he hadn't her undivided attention.
When I got there, He was deep in a temper tantrum and she was not consoling him as she usually does, she was rebuffing him. She said it is not everyday that my family comes into town to visit and this may be the only time these little ones get to see the entire family together, now you stay or go out, if you like, but I am going to host the family.
He flew away in a huff and Mrs. Robin's mother gave her such a cute peck on the beak after that performance that I had wished that I had had a camera to catch it. It seems Mrs. Robin has no problem being bossy, when she wants to and is learning to be kind and submissive to Mr. Robin, because she loves him and he is a high-maintenance relationship. She does it beautifully. I was so in awe of how she juggled all of those elements that I was almost late from my break...again.

Pop Bunny...

brought all of his little ones out to meet us, on our first day at camp. That was when we learned that Ma bunny puts breakfast on the table precisely at 6:15. The children are not allowed to miss breakfast, even in summertime. Pop is kind of pudgy, so he does occasionally miss breakfast to comeout and watch us hit the ball.
Enoch, inadvertantly hit the ball out to the bunnies in the stands and they all grabbed it and took it back to Ma, so she could see what they were doing out there with us.
Sometimes she gets on them for socializing with humans, unless they can show her some good cause.
On the second day they asked Enoch to sign the ball for their mother, and he did happily. Now he's famous in the bunny world as an amazing tennis player. They don't know you are supposed to hit it in the court. They think that we are missing it by not hitting it at them.
We had a good time.
I wasn't able to get a picture of the bunny children with the ball, just Pop, because he is much slower than they are. It was hilarious to see that bunch of little bunnies running up to Enoch all carrying one tennis ball...

Showing off Season?

I guess it must be nest showing season. I feel like I'm in a judging contest, or something. Motherhood is cross-species. Mrs Sparrow of Charlotte accosted me on the way to church, the way sparrows do. She wanted to show me her very creative location choice for her hatchlings.
It was exactly in the recesses of a street light. I was impressed, even though that would not have been my choice, had I been a bird and of nest building age and facility, still, I thought it was very resourceful;especially when she explained to me her reasoning.
I expressed to her my concern that it was too near the electricity which might pose a danger.
She said the current served a purpose for her in protecting her from predators who though they might be brave enough to chase them into that spot, might not be smart enough to avoid the current and be singed, if not killed altogether. I had not thought of that and said that it did make sense to me.
Her primary reason for choosing that spot was that she had intentions of having the most intelligent hatchlings she had ever laid.
She said that she would be able to read to her hatchlings and burn the midnight oil, thus giving herself more time with them to develop prowess and ingenuity. She said that she has a book of all of the facts that she neglected in each of the earlier seasons of "bird-rearing" and she reads it to them so as not to leave out one detail.
She intends for these hatchlings to be her best prepared ever and the streetlight helps her accomplish her goal.
How very different she is from Mrs. Robin, who has to run everything by Mr. Robin every season. Their relationship is good, but their hatchlings suffer. They spend hours on end bickering and fussing, this can't possibly be good for the hatchlings to see, but who am I to judge that.
Mrs. Robin is an awesome counselor and I cannot see how she finds the time to schedule in her sessions with me, with a high-maintenance family that she has and a husband that questions her every step.
I am grateful for her consideration to take me under her wing. The geese gave up after one attempt. It may be because, I just don't see them every day. They have very little patience for sullenness. Everytime I see them they make some sort of motion to let me know that I am the but of their jokes, since the rain incident.

The Cardinal Family

had made a habit of meeting up in the evergreen in front of the building, but because of their privacy, I was not up to making their acquaintance. They are beautiful and perhaps their beauty dissuaded me from pursuing them. Mrs Robin was very persistent with me that day. It seemed that she wanted to show me something and I followed her.
I was walking around the building and had almost past her and I just love how she caught my attention. Very carefully and stealthily, with barely a sound or a flutter, she leapt from branch to branch and I thought she was playing with me or something. "Wait", Wait" she said. She doesn't usually cause me to be late from my break, all birds are very timely, you know. (They don't even make the acquaintance of anyone who has no care for time) I was just about to leave her right there, when on the last branch she had leapt upon was the nest.
I had seen robins' nests before, but this one was special because of Mrs. Robins' special interest in me. Not ostentatious at all, with just the most impressive touches of color. She hadn't placed it in a bunch of leaves on that branch, just tucked on a bare branch which would eventually bloom with leafiness. At that moment it was the barest on the tree, just under some very leafy branches above it. After she showed me her nest she flew away, leaving me one minute to get to my desk...
Some things, Mrs. Robin doesn't say she just shows me. I later found out that when she flies like that, it means she intends me to do likewise. "If you fly like this you have just enough time to land at your desk at the correct time."

Mrs. Robin

has read all the latest hatchling quarterly magazines and watches Dr. Martha Robin everyday, to stay up to date with the state of the art robin development.
I can't keep up with her, she is so witty and knowledgable of her job. I'll tell you more of that later...
Ordinarily, Mrs Robin doesn't trust the geese for anything but the latest gossip. She says that they are entirely too worldly, for her close association with them and far too lenient with their hatchlings, too. Her good breeding doesn't allow her to tell them that and dont you tell them either, they would be mortified. When she's with them she seems totally at ease and comfortable. They have taken her into their strictest confidence at times and would be appalled to know what she really thinks of their acquaintance.
That is really none of my business; except, as a mutual acquaintance of them both, so as not to offend either.
Mrs Robin, recently read in the Encyclopedia of the Well Bred Robin that what Mr Robin has been purporting for seasons about color choices is completely wrong for robin brain development. She went on and on to me that the dull colors make the children sullen and cross and has even, in rare occasions been implicated in some hatchlings pecking eachother out of the nest prematurely.
At first, Mr. Robin had no time for such chatter about new philosophies and they endured a week of heated arguments on the subject. They were truly at an impass.
Mr. Robin thought his wife had gotten this stuff from me and I didn't see them for a while as they visited the robin library for her to show him this in "robin scratch". Her words for how they write.
Mr. Robin conceded to higher learning. "Far be it from me", he said, "to hinder the progress of our species." Still, he had a hard time reconciling that it was good enough for their prior hatchlings...
They came to a compromise, just the same. The walls of the nest were brightened with tulip petals and the palest shades of dry grass were the bedding, for obvious reasons. She let him win on that. ;)

Everyday

I have a break at about 10 am or so and a few weeks ago, I started to notice some bird couples around our buildings. I have to call them different names, because I don't really know what they all are.
Young master bluejay took his new girlfriend home to meet his folks, just before Easter Sunday. They made sure I saw them, by flying right in front of me and giggling as they nearly hopped off the car and then giggled away into the brush. I haven't seen them to talk to since. It has been 2 days. They are usually very busy talking, or should I say cheeping at eachother. They haven't seemed to notice that I would like an update on what the folks thought.
Well, anyway, the robins have been together for a while. Since the teaparty, they follow me. Actually, Mrs. Robin follows me and Mr Robin follows Mrs. Robin as she follows me. He is not happy about our relationship. She doesn't really follow me, we just meet up together from time to time. She especially shows up, for instance, if she gets any inkling that I may be pacing for some reason. She's trying to show me how to keep my job. Humans don't pace at work, she told me. They may fret, but they don't pace. Okay, I said, and stopped pacing at once. Pacing is a very hard habit to stop, all of a sudden, so I am glad that I have Mrs. Robin to remind me of little things like that.
We have so many beautiful flowers budding in the courtyard and I was privileged to catch the happy couple shopping for the finishing touches on their nest. Mr. Robin, still doesn't know what to make of our relationship. He is very posessive of Mrs. Robin's time and thinks that the gossip that she and I share is undermining her responsibilities; getting ready to lay her eggs. This doesn't daunt her in the least. She has been through this egg thing a couple of times before; so it is no big deal to her.
The robins argue every day, because Mrs. Robin refuses to let Mr. Robin tell her the color scheme and he is very bossy. I noticed, though that he quickly gives in, if she can give him some good reason for her particular stem or leaf choice. He enjoys earth tones and thinks that hatchlings need as little color as possible, so they are inspired to eat, grow and fly off. Mother Robin is completely the opposite.

Chapter 1/ Mrs. Robins April Fool

When I walked outside, Mrs. Robin was in the tree. "The stuff the geese and ganders(they are liberated now) were saying has really gotten to me." She said, boldly, while petting and picking at her feathers to let me know what it means to get under her feathers.
I had never been reproved by a bird, before. I didn't know how to respond to her, even though I knew she was right. There was no preface and no preparation for her reproof, as people do. She just pulled out her right wing and pointed it in my face and said that the geese told her to talk to me and she did.
She said that she was watching me to see if I was sitting outside like I did with them, and she had reason to believe that what they had said to her was true.
With left wing on her hip, she gave me an ultimatum.
"I knew you would be out here, she said, the geese were right on the quill about you""At least, you did your hair, today, that says something."
I tried to ignore her, since the tea party with the crow she had kind of adopted me. Still, I am always offended at what she says to me. This time it was about the trees and walls and she tried to hide in the tree. She said I will not talk to you again until I see that you have mended your ways.
Even the robins are bad mouthing me. We are not bad mouthing you we are concerned...