Last summer, a pair of Mallards would come on the calm days and dabble around at the foot of the breakwall, and then doze on the rocks. One day they decided to go "over the wall" and see what all the commotion was about. They discovered a lively community centered around the bird feeder, which, despite my seed-catcher arrangement, always had seeds at the base of the red maple. When I went out to refill the tube feeder, I started spilling a little mound of seed at the base of the trunk, just for them, and they got in the habit of stopping by twice a day, morning and evening. Their routine never varied: the hen always ate first, for as long as she wanted, while the drake kept a keen watch - the yards here aren't fenced, and I have neighbors who let their Labs run free. They race into my yard anytime they see any birds or other critters around. I've missed a couple of bird IDs because of it!!
This year, I have two Mallards again. I like to think it's the same pair, but of course it's hard to tell. But here they are a couple of days ago. It's a little fuzzy because I took it through the window rather than scare them away.
The other photo is of some grackles, in my favorite posture of theirs. I call it "falling for the old looking-up-in-the-air trick." Has anyone else noticed how they always seem to have their eyes on the skies, no matter what else they're doing?
P.S. Today is the designated "Get Tax Papers Together Day" around here, so I might not get to visit all your blogs; hope to make it tomorrow for OSI!
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.