Here’s another of my garage sale purchases. But that was last weekend, or even earlier. See, you guys don’t know everything right away.
I spent this entire morning roaming around outside, around the yard, up and down the driveway, past the flower beds. It was so perfect — not hot yet, not cool, a gentle summer breeze and, by the way, I’ve been lying to you all along when I’ve said it’s quiet here. The hell! No it isn’t. It’s a bird jungle and the bird action is constant.
Flying to and from their nest in one of our spruce trees I’ve seen four merlins at once today, yakking at the tops of their lungs and screaming past each other and our heads as we sat chatting on the step. They must be the young ones, practising flight. I saw one make an ungraceful landing on a spruce bough.
The barn swallows are the real kamikazes though. They rattle the chains of those merlins mercilessly. Brave little buggers, and they don’t let up.
Well I won’t go on longer about the birds. Because I could. There are all kinds. How lucky are we to have such a variety of wild birds choose to live and raise their young this close to us. It thrills me every day.