Day in the life.00

It's only been one day but I don't know how much longer I can stand seeing M. Corbeau endure the insults of nature. Yes, he would grow hoary and wonderful after years of frost and snow and layers of poop, muddy prints and scratches from the hand snatchers (Maniraptora) but this morning he was covered with a thin layer of frost and even that was almost too much for me. I know it violates some obscure poetic principal that is compromised even by mention but before winter sets in he may have to join me on this side of the glass.

Charlie the Crow is also here this morning, cawing his signature 4 caws - pause - 4 caws - pause - 4 caws - pause ... on and on. Even I have gone out on occasion and asked him to put a sock in it. I don't know what's with that guy, must one of those loud mouth, first to arrive, last to leave reporters.

In other Bird Park news, the graying magpie with the scars under her jaw is also out there enjoying a Sunday brunch. She's a loner and smart, comes early then makes a second swoop mid-morning and doesn't panic when I toss out seconds on the peanut chips but instead flies to the roof of a nearby house and waits for to me to go away.

Quiz of the day: What do Swatch, Rebecca Taylor, Nicole Miller and Burton Snowboards have in common? Answer here.