The weakened Autumn sun is coming through my window, along with
a beautiful song.
Winding it's way through the glass, I can clearly hear natures choral music group, tuning up, joining in, and singing it's little heart's out.
There is a group of small birds, mostly chickadees that live in the giant rhododendron by our deck. They flock together and lift their beaks to the sky, flighty, and skittish, with the slightest breeze. But the chirping and tweets that come from them is magnificent.
How they manage to dive, and dodge each other, jumping from branches to the bird feeder, is beautiful to watch. They so resemble a school of small minnows, flashing by. The damp autumn air is their water.
With no provocation they lift off with split second timing, and disappear to the safety of the nearby bushes. And then when one decides it is safe, they descend upon the bird feeder again.
Somewhere in the twittering, and song there are warning signals, and joyous exaltation. The sounds when they are eating from the illegal bird feeder we have hidden in the garden, are more reedy when there is a abundance of food.
When the weather is about to change, the tempo speeds up. There is urgency in the singing. If it is a sunny day, they rival the most beautiful choral groups I have ever heard, there is harmony in every note.
I might not love living in the city, and my heart might be longing to be transplanted to the country. But until then, I have one of the best examples of natures choral music living right outside my window. And if that is as close to the country as I can get right now, I will take it.
Somewhere in the twittering, and song there are warning signals, and joyous exaltation. The sounds when they are eating from the illegal bird feeder we have hidden in the garden, are more reedy when there is a abundance of food.
When the weather is about to change, the tempo speeds up. There is urgency in the singing. If it is a sunny day, they rival the most beautiful choral groups I have ever heard, there is harmony in every note.
I might not love living in the city, and my heart might be longing to be transplanted to the country. But until then, I have one of the best examples of natures choral music living right outside my window. And if that is as close to the country as I can get right now, I will take it.
Symphoricarpos alba Common Snowberry
Beautiful pictures and prose. Your dragonfly bird bath is wonderful! And I really like the white berries in the picture. Are they from a viburnum or some other plant?
ReplyDeleteHow marvellous! Sun and birdsong - life really is good! (Still grey and damp here...)
ReplyDeleteLove chickadees...so energetic, so determined! What is the last picture of?
ReplyDeletekathy
Bloom where you're planted, indeed. :) And what a wonderful chorus it is -- the chickadees are among my favourite feathered friends and make an otherwise long winter seem just a little bit shorter with their antics and their song. Very nice post!
ReplyDeleteIt's true. Birds are a wonderful gift. Always joyous to listen to. I love the white berries, btw.
ReplyDeleteSnow berry, I have not seen that befor it is pretty.
ReplyDeletePatsy
Jen, I love how you make art out of simple things. Who would have thought a stump with birdseed would be so pretty?!
ReplyDeleteOh Jen, this was just wonderful, a true delight to follow your joyous narrative and imagine the chorus. We listen carefully here as well. I hear the birds begin tuning up before the dawn has even allowed light to shine on them. Such a pleasing sound. I am in love with your white berries too. :-)
ReplyDeleteFrances
You sure do have a way with words. You painted a picture just with your words. Beautiful. By the way, I sure am glad you aren't quitting blogging!
ReplyDeletejen, A delightful read! You did a great job of creating the image of birds darting and diving! Goodness what dunderhead decided bird feeders were illegal! gail
ReplyDeleteJen, that top photo, in particular, is absolutely phenominal! Exquisite really. May your weekend bring a song to your heart
ReplyDeleteI'm glad your longing heart can find a country microcosm to savour.
ReplyDeleteYou're a beautiful writer but an illegal bird feeder?? Jen, you ARE living life on the edge aren't you? LOL
ReplyDeleteThat first photos is gorgeous and I loved your prose. Heartwarming.
Love the top shot! And I have seed on slabs of trees my husband has cut and saved for me!
ReplyDeleteI just read this one. I enjoy listening to the birds, too. We don't feed year round, other than leaving seed heads and not killing the bugs. Oh, I sometimes pick up slugs and such and put them on the lip of a bird bath. We need to be getting our feeders filled soon, though.
ReplyDeleteIt used to be my dream to live on an acreage and grow much of our food, but my husband convinced me neither of us was handy enough to manage it. I have learned to be content, too.
Uffda that little dragonfly water filled dish is stunning! Is it a butterfly puddling thingy? Very interesting:)
ReplyDelete