Now we see through a glass darkly

Now we see through a glass darkly
Helen Keller and her mother exemplified in the Miracle Worker

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Oby was the talk of the town, this morning!

I was so vain as to think that they were peeping about me. I took my table out to give it a light coat of paint and Mrs. Blue thought that I was granting her a perch to broadcast the news. I don't know what new thing that baby was up to last night, but the entire bird neighborhood was up in arms.
How dare you think that we would make all of this noise about you, was the rebuffing of the blackbirds to me. Well, if I were a person I would go right inside to see his beautiful face. And with that, he opened the vent holes with his beak and tried to press himself into the house to show me, his intention. I was, certainly impressed with their attempts to allow me the fun of being a part of the bird gossip, without a single particular, except to know that they are aware of every baby in the neighborhood and their faintest wimper and the first of everything that they do, but not I. "And you call yourself a "mommy"!"Hrummmmph!"
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

jayne c walker's

___________________________________________________________






_________________________________________________________________________________________________<>Robins Don't LeanBluejays Don't Beg

For the Birds?

For the Birds?
click on the picture to for an Evvie story.

Sparrow's Spring nest

Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow were caught, by me yesterday, shopping together for a new home. They flitted and flirted, just outside my window. Talking and discussing and lovingly disagreeing, if not arguing the benefits and the pitfalls of living at our house.
Mrs. Sparrow was very impressed with the 2 "ready made" nests hung outside our window. Mr. Sparrow hadn't even thought of them as "ready-made" nests. He used them for the provision of building materials for the private home that he had in mind in a surprise and hidden place. He doesn't like the openness, at all, of our porch. It's much too populated. When Mr. Sparrow gets it into his mind to give his sweet chicky a peck, he wants the freedom to do it without a bunch of younguns peeking over the nest to see what comes next.
Mrs. Sparrow was impressed that the porch was fully protected from hailstones. We all know what happened to a great many of last years' nests in that surprise hailstorm we had. Male birds seem to have a very short memory for storms. They have only one thing in mind in the nest building season... 03/09