Two at a time

As always, the Seven O'clock Magpie, was the first to discover we are back and for a few golden days she had all the peanuts and kibble to herself. Those first two days, she didn't even eat it all. But not so this morning. This morning the tribe showed up and gobbled everything in minutes. I am impressed that now most of them are expert at grabbing two peanuts per swoop. It wasn't always so.

Curiosity lands!!!

Woo-hoo!
Hey Seven O'clock!
Hey Minerva!
We just flew to Mars!

Obese magpie

Breakfast in the Bird Park and once again, the magpies are loading up with peanuts, sometimes flying off with two in a beak, while the cautious crows look on. Actually, the magpie are not really obese, well there is one. I just like the image. I want to shout, "Come on! Grab a goodie before everything's gone" as one crow finally begins inching in sideways toward the kibble but no. Can't do that. They tolerate me through the window but otherwise our relationship is pretty tenuous.

The cool thing is that Minerva the crow is here this morning. She's been a Bird Park regular for years. You might wonder how I know but I have my ways. Actually, it's not all that mystical. She has that feather protruding from her right wing and her companion has a distinctive brown feather in her right wing. Her/his? I don't know. Maybe they're siblings but, in any case, they are out there right now and Brownie has finally grabbed a beakful of kibble and flown off. Breakfast in bed for the chillens? I am so going to miss this. Yes. I am looking forward to London and Paris. We leave on the 21st. I'm not addled, for Christ's sake, but I am also very attached to my bird friends. Awww well. It's spring so they won't be out there foraging in the snow anyway and Penny Robin, who had to have her apple first thing in the morning, has already gone back to higher ground.

Oh. It's just you.

That's the response I get from a lot of the birds out in the Bird Park when I sit down at my computer, as I did just now. Before they figure out it's just me they do that little crouch birds do before launch then they notice it's just me, straighten up and go back to their business. I'm flattered.

Other than that, the feeling in the house among us two humans is as though we are drawn up into a great wave that is, in six days, going to come crashing down around us. Ready or not, we leave on Friday and will be gone until the end of July.

So, last week M. Lee decided to paint the house alone by hand. It's been on the project list for a few years. At this point, were you to ask, he might say he underestimated the job. In any case, it has upped the pressure about a thousand degrees. Other than that, for me, traveling is always preceded by great, amorphous anxiety and I am fully in it. I worry about the birds. Don't even say it. I know how pathetic that sounds, as though I am Mother Nature incarnate.They are wild. They will, somehow, survive my absence. My regret, in part, is purely selfish. Currently, a group of red wing blackbirds are regular customers at Bird Park and all day long they fill the silence with their charming conversation. This is the first time they've been regulars and, of course, they will be long gone when we get back. I know that's nothing but it at least it distracts me from the anxiety of what I'll forget to do or bring and how horrible that 10 hour flight is going to be.

Anyway, thanks for listening, if you got this far. I don't know why but it helps to write about it but it does and, like the message in the bottle, it's comforting to think there is another shore. Now I've gotta go. I've got a list of things to do. Have a great day.

The difference between crows and magpies.

Here at the Bird Park crows jump down out of the air with a ground shaking, window rattling THUD, straighten their feathers, then assess the situation before committing to anything further. Magpies, on the other hand, careen out of the air, hit the ground running, taper off in a sometimes stumbling bounce to a brief pause before dashing off, grabbing a peanut or bit of kibble and flying away.

Penny Robin meets Mme. Chanceuse

Minerva & the outdoor crows

Minerva & the outdoor crows, a photo by ashabot on Flickr.

Watching you watching me watch you.

Coffee with Old Robin

It was barely light this morning when I put breakfast out in the Bird Park but Old Robin was already there enjoying an apple. What's very cool is that she didn't fly away when I opened the door. She hopped off a bit but then turned to watch as I filled the water and scattered the goodies. That was about 15 minutes ago.

We're now on the third shift although the demographics have changed at bit. The crows are back, sometimes even beating the magpies to the table but, for today at least, Old Robin gets the Early Bird Award. Otherwise, and every morning, the crows and magpies swoop in first then, about 10 minutes later, the grackles arrive along with a smattering of starlings. That order is fixed. At least so far, Old Robin's presence is seasonal and intermittent. And, of course, the quail make their appearance at some point, a few pigeons drop in, including a lovely couple of mourning doves and last, but of course not least, the finches arrive. They are here on and off all day and the quail who come and go in waves. Lately Old Robin has been around a good part of the day, along with a second robin she chases off, to no avail. And, yes, the Seven O'clock Magpie checks in through the day on a regular basis. She is the most loyal of all.

And, while I'm on the subject Bird Park wonders and special events, yesterday at dawn a crow watched me silently from the peak of old Dick's house as I put the food out. I heard his talons click on the roof as he dropped down from the sky but I pretended I didn't notice and he didn't get scared off. Woo-hoo.

So that's it for now. If you're a regular here, you've probably read similar rundowns before. Sorry about that. I just felt the need to write some words and this is what's happening outside my window. At this point, everyone has come and are already gone except for Old Robin who has all the apples to herself again and she is taking her time. She's at that last cup of coffee part of breakfast when you're full but want to stretch the moment out as long as possible before launching into the day. And so am I. Well, I haven't had my oatmeal yet but it is time for one last cup of coffee. So, have a nice day. Good chatting with you.

Bird Park Wish List

If it weren't for the damn CC & Rs, we
could have a fine fellow like Mr. Kung Fu around
to greet the neighborhood gangster cats that have made
the Bird Park their own personal Nevada casino style dessert buffet.

Meet Mister Kung Fu Rooster.

Happy Squirrel Appreciation Day

If you've been thinking about baking a peanut cake for the neighborhood squirrels, today's the day. It's Squirrel Appreciation Day.

I decided that a good way to appreciate squirrels would be to register the Bird Park with the National Wildlife Federation. That would make it a certified wildlife habitat but when I got to the final step the NWF wanted twenty bucks. Plus, I travel a lot and being Mother Nature to a world has to be a full-time job. Ah well. Maybe later.

Anyway, happy Squirrel Appreciation Day. Now go appreciate some squirrels.

Moment before dawn

Burfi by Srivalli

6:43 AM: Breakfast is out. The world is quiet. The Bird Park emerges from the dark. I am waiting for the birds to arrive. This morning there is burfi.

7:16 AM: Even the grackles came.

Winter Solstice 2011

Okay. It's nearly midnight but I don't like to see a Winter Solstice pass without wishing you a good day and new year. Of course this Solstice marks the beginning of the final countdown to the end of the Mayan Long Count Calendar (5125 ears long) and some say the end of time and life on earth. It's always something.

And tonight I learned that Al Linde, an old friend, died about a week ago. Seems he was on blood thinners following knee surgery in preparation for the new baseball season, suffered a freak accident blow to the head and just bled out. WTF, Al?!

Baxter Blackwell

Not Baxter
but you get the idea.
Source

Roy commented on a previous post that all my Bird Park lacks in complexity is a stray dog and complimentary dog catcher which brings us to the subject of one Mr. Baxter Blackwell. I take a lot of photos, some might say an insane number of photos of the passing parade, the Great Circus, the Theatre of the Absurd and Wonderful to which I say...why not? M. Lee has created what is, in practical terms, a Bottomless Pit of Storage and I have a fine camera so I take it as a personal responsibility to try and fill it. But, and I say this with much sadness and regret, I do not have one photo of the rag-a-muffin darling of our neighborhood, the fickle and fanciful, the wayward and whimsical, the ever and absolutely uncontainable hairy Houdini of scruffy little mutts, the one and only Mr. Baxter Blackwell (regrettably deceased).

I can't remember the number of times I scooped Baxter up and returned him to his home and family, who did not even realize he'd slipped out again only to see him, within the hour, trotting down the sidewalk on yet another walkabout. What mystery did he seek, this inscrutable lover of the open road? Was he driven by a mere doggie's thirst for adventure or was he under the glamour of a faerie spell? I tended toward the latter but, in any case, Baxter was a beautiful woolly gypsy soul. Whenever I saw him trotting by, whether or not I could capture him, I wished and prayed that the world were a safer place. Baxter was far too small and completely irrepressible. Unfortunately, it didn't end well. Not long after his death the couple divorced, sold the house and moved, as we say in these parts, back East. Happy trails, Baxter Blackwell, wherever you are.

Fatty report

Not Fatty the Hawk but
another Fatty from last year
just before he snagged and
devoured one of the finches
enjoying breakfast
in the Bird Park.

We've had a blue sky cold week here in Nevada, just the kind of weather that drives birds to the feeders but Fatty the hawk has been hanging around so, for a couple of days, everyone stayed away. Fatty's a saucy little fellow. I invited him to go elsewhere but he was totally unimpressed. All I got for my effort was a "One step closer, girlie, and you're mine" look and an impassioned pitch from M. Lee about Predator Rights. I know. Hawks get to eat too. I'd just prefer they do it somewhere else. I don't like it when any of my bird buddies gets eaten alive. Finally Seven o'clock Magpie, the Bird Park's self-appointed magistrate, took it upon herself to make Fatty's life miserable enough that he stayed away until late yesterday afternoon and so far today he hasn't showed up at all. Now, if the damn cats would bugger off...

Common ground

Note to self: G'ville is hosting annual Festival of Lights this evening. When we go out tonight, do everything possible to avoid it.

I'm just now watching a couple of finches duke it out in the Bird Park in yet another late afternoon food fight. They get intense when seed levels drop to the bottom hole. Plus it's cold out there. And in here. I'm bundled up. Even my hair is mashed under the blanket. I am immobile as a giant winter doll, other than the freewheeling fingers typing these words. It took a few goes before they agreed to tap out "words" rather than "worlds". In the meantime, it seems to me that the repeated hard drives to the letter "L" scared the finches off. In spite of all their chest bumping, they are timid fellows.

Now, balancing along the fence top, the quail covey makes its twilight return to scratch and peck the remains of the day.* Three of them linger at the water bowl awhile then wander off to nibble the apples. Gray fat birds fading into eventide.

*All due respect to Kazuo Ishiguro.

Last Day of November and Submissions Update

Welcome to the last day of November 2011.

I am reluctant to see the month pass as it means that the very fine photo calendar of Baby Leo's first year is coming to an end. At this point Baby Leo is well into year two and goes by the moniker Mister Leo. That's all good but god it goes fast! Anyway, good morning or, as they say in Norwegian, God Morgen!

Last night we returned home from Oregon where we spent Thanksgiving. Of course the 7 o'clock Magpie was at the Bird Park bright and early for breakfast...as always. And, as always, the rest of the charm did not show up. It generally takes them a couple of days to figure out that I'm back. She and her mate gobbled up as much as they could and then spend the rest of the morning stashing the remaining peanuts and kibbles around the yard for later. I think of her as a magpie genius, which is quite a compliment given that magpies are already, not only one of the smartest birds, but also among the most intelligent of all animals. Among other talents, they are the first non-mammals proven to recognize themselves in the mirror. Facial recognition is a big deal, especially for birds. When we were kids, my brother's blue parakeet Chi-chi, may he rest in peace, spent an awful lot of time cooing and nibbling his tiny mirror. Clearly, the little dummy believed his girlfriend was the two-dimensional floating head in the glass. Whether or not Chi-chi's relationship in anyway resembles online obsessions will remain a discussion for another day.

In other news, I just learned that Pele, one of the poems I submitted in October to The Fine Line, was accepted and will be included in its upcoming fourth issue. It's a digital publication so unfortunately no complimentary copy but they do post a free download of each issue should anyone care to print one out. Not me but I do appreciate the recognition. And to their credit they accept reprints, which I consider god damn enlightened. So, now Pele has been published twice, once in Skidrow Penthouse, which is a print publication and does pay with copy, and now in The Fine Line.

BP Update

In case you're lying awake nights wondering if the little birds rediscovered the Bird Park, worry no more. They have and all is well again. Even the crows dropped by for breakfast the other morning. They are really quite impressive. Even the impertinent magpies show them respect.

======================

Just so you know, the tip of my left index finger has a painful splinter blister on it which I nevertheless endured to type this report.

Bird Park report

The magpies showed up for breakfast the morning after we got home but, though the feeders are full and waiting, the little birds still haven't caught on that we're back. :(

Señor Pierna

Yay. I was worried about him. The one-legged magpie showed up at the Bird Park the other day. He's traveling alone. After watching for a few minutes I saw why. Two magpies still hanging around from breakfast, 7 and her friend who keep their eyes on the place all day, pounced and pummeled him. I broke it up and he came back later on his own but what a drag. Magpies are a rough crowd.

He's a persistent fellow though. In fact, he landed on the fence just now. The breakfast bunch left about 10 minutes ago. He's enjoying sunflower seeds. Oops. I spoke too soon. Heidi, who I'm dog-sitting for the next week, just wandered into the Bird Park.

Ok. Reset. Heidi's back inside. I tossed out a few more peanuts and he's back. This guy needs a name. Señor Pierna. Mr. Leg.

7 o'clock Magpie, faithful as she ever was

Yay! The 7 o'clock Magpie just showed up. That's my girl! She's a bit late this morning but hey! Other than a few days a couple of weeks ago, I haven't been here for five months to put out her morning peanuts so that's pretty good. I may be a bit obsessive but, when she hadn't arrived by 7:05 AM, it did cross my mind that something terrible might have happened to her but, barring injury or death, I never doubted for a second that she'd be by for breakfast. She's knows I'm good for it. We've got a thing.