With the last few evening being a little milder, and barely a breeze, I stepped out my back door to stand for a reflective moment in the twilight air. But all was not quiet at that late hour. A starling was busy checking out my neighbor's purple martin house. I could hear the almost frantic metallic scrabblings of her (or maybe his - I don't know who handles the main house hunting duties among starling couples) feet against the metal structure. That colony nest house hasn't been cleaned out in years, maybe decades, so I wondered what all the fuss was about. Do starlings have the ability to understand the concept of "making room"? Was the bird trying to move used nest material around to create more living space for this year? Or perhaps was even trying to evict some of the old twigs, and start over? These are questions I don't have any answers for, but maybe one of you readers will know.
This will be my fourth spring at this lake shore location. When I first moved in, a robin was nesting in a well-sheltered and concealed spot over the same neighbor's downspout. For the next two years the nest was relined and reused, until it was abandoned, probably because it finally got to be too tall to the limited space under the eaves. It's such a prime nesting spot, I'm tempted to try and knock the old nest down, so it can be reused. The job would take a step ladder and maybe a good stout stick. Would any starlings in the yard wonder what on earth I was doing?
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.