I
was making a cup of coffee this morning, which in turn had me
standing in the kitchen for a few minutes accomplishing nothing
more than looking out the window as I waited for the process to
complete filling the mug.
Three
blue jays were busy dancing around the yard.
Dancing
isn’t exactly the perfect word, but it works wonderfully well.
They were on the ground and the deck, on feeders and fences, and
basically just bouncing around from place to place in what was
possible to enjoy as a choreographed effort.
Made
me smile.
Not
long after, I had returned to rinse out that coffee mug and work
on lunch. A pair of cardinals were on the ground, pecking away
in an area where some birdseed had been spilled while refilling
the feeders yesterday.
It
can be a busy yard.
Terry
and I often see mourning doves outside. And not just a pair or
a few. We’ve had times where there were as many as two dozen mourning
doves hanging out in our yard.
They
can be joyously hysterical just by their presence. They don’t
exactly do much. They definitely don’t duck and dive and soar
and swoop like the blue jays. But they have the way of appearing
to have settled right in. Kind of like they found a recliner and
an afghan, united with plans to clean out a few episodes from
the list of the recorded shows. Not quite nesting, but definitely
nestled.
I
often find myself wondering why certain birds are in certain places
at certain times. I get it in a specific sense. After all, I put
out the seed and spread the bread crumbs. I invited them to stop
and relax for a bit. But when two dozen mourning doves are cooing
away, or resting along railings of your deck, it does make for
a striking sound and visual.
Sure,
an ornithologist would likely be able to rattle off plenty of
details explaining it. They would be able to point out the trees
that are (or aren’t) near my yard. There’s probably a great amount
of information concerning bugs and flowers and more. The length
of the day, the distance to bodies of water, the local wildlife,
and on and on. There are lots of reasons why those blue jays and
cardinals are having some fun outside. Plenty of reasons why they
are here today in some unexpectedly warm weather for the season,
and why they were here a few days ago in the unexpectedly cold,
and why they will be here during the normal for right now tomorrow.
For
me though, there are those days when a sight such as a seagull,
hundreds of miles from any sea that I know of, catches me by surprise.
Along the same lines, I wonder what nests and foraging patterns
would exist if I wasn’t making sugar water from scratch during
the summer or stocking up on suet cakes for the winter.
We
have to keep the vertical blinds drawn in kitchen a fair amount
of time during the day. I don’t know why, but there are moments
during sunny days when birds have a tendency to fly straight into
the sliding glass door if we don’t.
(Actually,
I looked that one up. As most of us would likely guess, usually
it most definitely is the reflection of the landscape. The birds
simply don’t see the window, and often think they are viewing
open fields, trees and more. The part I didn’t expect to learn
was that many territorial birds, ones that act aggressively to
protect what they consider to be their domain, actually see their
own reflections and misinterpret it as a threat. So apparently,
yes, a bird can be attacking itself. (Take that dogs chasing your
own tail!))
Right
now it’s the middle of winter. Not too many days that I can exactly
step outside, settle in to a chair, and enjoy a bit of the great
outdoors. (And when I do right now, it’s often because I’m clearing
snow and not full-on outdoor enjoyment.) But the show does continue.
The
other day there was some snow in our yard. Deer tracks were quite
visible, even though it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen any
dear. We’ve had rabbits and turkeys and more. And I’m sure we’ve
had plenty come on by without leaving tracks in the snow.
In
a few hours, I’ll be asleep. And yet, things will likely be happening
outside around my home. (Not likely… definitely.) There’s always
something going on.