Birds
Every time, and I do mean EVERY TIME I walk down the path to my front door, a bird - dark with small white speckles and faint lines - flies up to the tree that is right next to the door and yells at me. I say yells because it has this raucous jarring screech of a birdcall. It looks directly at me when it does it too. Perhaps the bird believes that I am trying to steal its tree, when really, I don't want the tree at all. He can have it. I have no need for it.
Perhaps it is saying hello, and actually really likes me.
Perhaps it really hates me, and saves the most grating, annoying call in its repertoire for me especially.
I can hear it now, rasping away in the magnolia tree. I should try to find out what sort of bird it is. (I left my rather heavy bird book at home). All I know is that it is a pollen feeder, and sounds like a bass-voiced cricket. Often before or right after it croaks in my general direction I see its tongue slither out of its long slightly curved beak. Is it waving hello? Is this some sort of bird insult?
Ah, so many mysteries.
Perhaps it is saying hello, and actually really likes me.
Perhaps it really hates me, and saves the most grating, annoying call in its repertoire for me especially.
I can hear it now, rasping away in the magnolia tree. I should try to find out what sort of bird it is. (I left my rather heavy bird book at home). All I know is that it is a pollen feeder, and sounds like a bass-voiced cricket. Often before or right after it croaks in my general direction I see its tongue slither out of its long slightly curved beak. Is it waving hello? Is this some sort of bird insult?
Ah, so many mysteries.