Attacked!

I couldn’t believe my luck! Delectable delights waiting to be devoured and I was the only one there. Look at all the maple seeds (they are also called samaras or kids call them helicopters – but I call them delicious!) just laying around.

I must admit, I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings because I was starving. I was here last week checking out this location and no one was around. Imagine my shock when a robin attacked me, immediately followed by a small blackish bird. They flew right at me and pecked my head! What was that all about? Quickly I dove for cover.

The hostas were perfect for hiding. I waited for a bit then cautiously crept out to continue my feast. Have you ever tried these seeds? They are the best in the spring!

Just as I settled back in for my feast, the birds were back interrupting my meal. I would have gladly shared my seeds, but they weren’t having it. They kept flying right into me so I had to hide out under the arborvitae tree.

Cautiously I crept out to continue my dinner, but I wasn’t safe for long.

Thank goodness for the safety in the hostas! Do you see that robin sitting on the fence. It was just waiting for me to creep out of my hiding place.

Eventually I gave up trying to have a peaceful meal. I climbed up the fence and was strolling along the top when the #%$@! bird came charging. I scurried across the top of that fence and hid in a dense viburnum bush. Maybe later I will go back and snack on a few seeds. Want to join me?

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Changes Abound

Mother Nature is constant and consistent. Spring always follows winter. Some years it is the shortest season, but it is filled with life and wonder. Here’s what I noticed:

Look at the top of this tree. Leaves appear from the top working its way down the limbs.

Only a few leaves on this tree, but look where they are!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby leaf buds on this burning bush.

A few weeks later, the buds are becoming leaves and tiny branches have sprouted.

 

 

 

 

 

This tree does not change much from season to season. It is always green, it just grows taller each year. But this year it has a secret.

This is the view one has when you leave my house. This slight gap became the entrance for someone who was house hunting.

A home was built and a family will soon occupy this space. I am not sure who has moved in. Do you know?

Could this be the new tenant?

Every day, I see a difference in the world that surrounds me as Mother Nature takes over. She has no time for the virus to disrupt her life. For now, I will be content to see what She has in store.

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My Story

Hello! Let me introduce myself. I am a fledgling robin.

This was my home until mother and father so rudely (and unexpectedly) pushed me and my siblings out of this luxury high-rise viburnum bush nest.

These past few days have been trying (to say the least). Once I got my bearings, I discovered there’s a new world beyond the nest. I found out my legs could take me from one side of the field to the other by hopping. I think hopping is a perfectly fine way of moving, but one of the adults in my life is telling me to use my wings. I just don’t get the big deal. 

There must be a family reunion in the maple tree. I hear a chorus of chirping over my head all day long as I travel from one spot to another (you know, hopping along happily). Relatives zoom past me, urging me to spread my wings. Leave me alone! I’ll do it, but not yet. If only someone would bring me a nice juicy worm, life would be great.

Mama! Where are you?There you are, help me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wait a minute, what just happened? How did I get here? Did my wings do that? Cool!

I think I’ll just rest for a bit. That was fun, but I don’t want to overdo it.

That rest gave me energy to explore more. What is that lady doing behind the glass? Wait a second, I have an itch. I hope she notices my steely stare. Stop stalking me lady!

In a day or so, I’m out of here. There’s a great big world to explore.Know a good place for juicy worms?

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Simple Story

Cardinal Conversation

Tap, tap

She: Is anyone home? I see red. Heelllooo!

Tap, tap

She: No one answered.  I know someone is home.

 

Come closer! Take a look! Someone is brighter than you!

He: I don’t think it’s safe to be that close. I like it out here.

She: Take a chance, I’ll meet you on the arm of this chair.

He: That’s as far as I’m going!

She: See, there’s nothing to be afraid of here. You need to take a chance and explore the world a little more. Who knows what’s out there waiting to be discovered.

He: You are right, look over there. Is that a bird feeder I spot? Let’s check it out.

They flew away that day, but she continues to tap at various windows. He, however, stays back and has not come closer again.

 

 

 

Choose Your Side

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There are red states. There are blue states. Why can’t we just be United States? I’m beginning to think this divisiveness is taking over.

While looking out the kitchen windows into our backyard, my husband began laughing, “Come here, you have to see this!” he exclaimed. The cardinals were gathered on the left side of the yard. The blue jays were on the right side of the yard. Keeping their backs to each other they flitted from one limb, to the ground, and back to the trees, occasionally pecking at some tasty morsel. They did not cross bird-lines, however, a redheaded woodpecker arrived. First he hopped up and down the tree on the right, tapping here and there. Not finding enough on the right, he flew to the tree on the left, repeating his dance from the previous tree. He paid the cardinals and blue jays no mind. He took care of his business, then left.

I wonder if the cardinals and blue jays took notice that it is possible to live harmoniously even when not every one is just alike. Did they discover they can cross the bird-lines in the yard?

Stanley, the Roadrunner

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An umbrella propped in the corner of a covered patio has become an evening-through-the-night roosting place for a roadrunner at my brother-in-law’s house, outside of Phoenix.

Every afternoon between 3:30 and 4:00, a roadrunner wanders in from his (we think it is a male) day of hunting for food. He ambles about the patio, freezing into position if he senses movement behind the glass doors. When he feels safe, he continues his patrol of the patio. My brother-in-law reports that occasionally, he will tap on the glass doors. Sadly, he was not in a tapping mood during my visit during the holidays.

After taking stock of his surroundings, he may fly up to the back of a chair to study his final destination, the top of the propped umbrella. Or he may decide to fly right to the top of the umbrella.

Stanley is all puffed up trying to dry off. Believe it or not, it rained the days were were in Arizona.

Once perched, he faces out so he can keep an eye on his surroundings. His tail is straight up and flush with the wall. That is his pose until he leaves in the morning. Departure is usually around 8:00-8:30.

Since this bird has been roosting on my brother-in-law’s patio for several months, he was given a name, Stanley. Stanley does not take flight when you go out to view this curiosity. He views the intruder with an unblinking steely stare.

Stanley, settled in for the night. He has become the finial of the umbrella.

This is the tidiest bird ever. He has never left one dropping on the umbrella or patio. Now, I find that amazing! I’ve never known a bird not to leave a little disgusting reminder of their presence.

Every morning, the patio corner is checked to see if Stanley stayed the night. Each evening his arrival is anticipated and noted. It will be a sad day when Stanley decides to relocate.

A Moment Caught

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Before I retired, Friday evening was my favorite part of the week. The weekend hours stretched like a slinky. So many options to fill those moments, but like a slinky, time snapped back and the routine of school filled the days.

Now that I am retired (but working part time in schools) Fridays don’t have that same magic. Instead the special time is mid-April into June. These days I savor just like a working-life Friday, but the joy of time lasts longer.

Here is the time I get to play with my crafts, read, and read some more. No guilt lingering in my mind that says you have work to finish. I stop by the library with my list of book titles that I culled from various posts and walk out with a stack to last me for a while.

I carry my  sweet tea with a touch of lemon to the patio. Pull the chair into the sunshine, prop my feet on the ottoman to become lost in the world of the book.

I hear it before I see it. The vibrating thrummmmmm hovers six inches from my face. The wings create a breeze, as the hummingbird scans my body looking for the nectar portal. I am as still as a marble statue, I relish the closeness of this contact. Moments later, it zoomed away searching for something with more nutritional value than my peach colored shirt. This moment caught in my mind, sadly not on my camera.

Wherefore Art Thou?

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Last year a cold snap destroyed all the potential blossoms on my peach tree. Somehow four peaches managed to survive.

In the fall we had the tree pruned. The arborist promised this action would create a plethora of peaches, plus it would allow the tree to develop to its greatest potential.

I guess this means one peach. How sad!

Eagerly I waited for the tree to burst into bloom. Then the leaf buds appeared, followed by leaves. Concerned, I studied my tree. A single blossom was all that I could find. My heart sank. Another year, no peaches in my yard.

 

These are the blossoms I expected. This is from March 2012

Update on bird status: Baby robins are now feathered, so soon they will be on their own and the tree will be removed.

If She Only Knew

An Alberta spruce at our front walk.

A pair of Alberta spruces flank the step to our front door. They should never have been planted there, the arborist informs us. They are too close to the brick. In the summer, the heat of the brick will scorch them. Why did no one tell us this ten years ago when we began landscaping our new house?

The view from the house. Not so pretty.

This tree looks presentable from the front. However, the backside is another story. It is dead and each year more branches in the back turn brown, become brittle, then break off.

These trees are slated to be removed, but now we have a problem. A robin discovered an abandoned nest. It was just what she would have built herself, but she was running short on time. She moved in and immediately laid three eggs.

Daily, I check the progress of the eggs. Will this brood be hatched and raised before the tree removal crew arrives? Hopefully the rain has put the tree company behind in their work.

This mama robin has claimed her nest. If she only knew this tree is living on borrowed time.

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