I am an avid birdwatcher – not to be confused with an expert birdwatcher; I simply have fun. I am able to recognize common birds and I can identify a few by their vocals. I have numerous bird books to guide me but I still get pretty confused. Mostly, though, I just enjoy watching them because they fascinate me. I love the subtleties in their markings and colors and voices. I wonder what’s going on in their teeny, tiny bird brains. I’m amazed that so many species can get along together at the feeders. I think about what a struggle it must be to migrate. This is the stuff that clutters my mind.
My favorite time to commune with the birds is while sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee in one hand and binoculars in the other. Across from me sits H, my sweetheart of a husband, who listens to me chatter nonstop about the latest birds to stop by the feeders, land in the yard or bathe in the birdbaths – I can tell that he’s hanging on to my every word. If the truth be known, he probably finds more interest in my enthusiasm than he does in what he refers to as the “wild kingdom” that resides outside our window – until yesterday!
H was halfway through his breakfast when I got to the kitchen. Without looking up from the paper, he spoke:
“There sure are a lot of crows out there.”
“Really? What are you talking about? Where are my binoculars? Hey, those aren’t crows! Those birds are too small for our crows.”
“They’re black and there are a lot of them. It looks like Hitchcock out there.”
“Wow! They’re everywhere! Look at them in the trees and on my feeders. I sure hope they don’t tear up the feeders! Where are my bird books?”
My favorite time to commune with the birds is while sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee in one hand and binoculars in the other. Across from me sits H, my sweetheart of a husband, who listens to me chatter nonstop about the latest birds to stop by the feeders, land in the yard or bathe in the birdbaths – I can tell that he’s hanging on to my every word. If the truth be known, he probably finds more interest in my enthusiasm than he does in what he refers to as the “wild kingdom” that resides outside our window – until yesterday!
H was halfway through his breakfast when I got to the kitchen. Without looking up from the paper, he spoke:
“There sure are a lot of crows out there.”
“Really? What are you talking about? Where are my binoculars? Hey, those aren’t crows! Those birds are too small for our crows.”
“They’re black and there are a lot of them. It looks like Hitchcock out there.”
“Wow! They’re everywhere! Look at them in the trees and on my feeders. I sure hope they don’t tear up the feeders! Where are my bird books?”
Of course, by now I’m running from window to window with binoculars in hand.
“They’re noisy too.”
By the time I left for work thirty minutes later the birds were gone, as if they had never stopped by. However, as I pulled out of the driveway I was startled by another bird sighting – this time a hawk sitting on a tree branch so close that I could have touched him. He eyeballed me as I snapped a few photos. I’m sure that H was also eyeballing me from the window, no doubt waiting for me to come home and tell the tale.
Your enthusiasm makes me smile. Thanks.
ReplyDelete