Winter Break

I love to watch birds all year long.  Well, not “birdwatching” like the real birders.  Just the thrill of seeing a robin in my yard or the gathering  of (are they?) towhees and grosbeaks around the feeders.

They cheer me in this season.  On clear frosty days of early winter they hop around with such optimism, knowing that there will be seeds or other delectable comestibles in their paths.

For the price of sunflower seed and thistle seed and a few minutes effort I have the pleasure of seeing birds from my kitchen window.  They are easy to spot on the bare branches of the wisteria.  And they seem perkier this time of year.  Maybe they are moving to keep warm as they pop from twig to twig.

I’m surprised to see so many finches.  If I studied birds I might learn that they don’t migrate.  It’s just that I have spring memories of their arrival in great swarms. For a fleeting time the fast moving yellow feathers would light up the trees like blossoms.  That’s when I expect them…in the spring.

Studying birds is not for me.  Enjoying them is my personal gig.

Each time someone names one, I think I will remember.  But no,  I must look it up again if I care enough.  And I usually don’t.

I simply watch them as I rinse the dishes.  I listen to the chatter or the song as I hustle through the cold air to the shop or to the car.  I stop at the back door window and marvel at their communication system.  How do they know that the wind dropped the seeds to my back patio?

It is enough for me that birds are in my life.  And that they stay around to entertain me until spring comes again.



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