The wind is blowing so loud I’m looking for a film crew and maybe Mark Wahlberg to be outside. It’s one of those happy days to do any and everything in flannel sweats.
The birdfeeder swings like a pendulum, hummingbird feeder in sync. I wonder why we even having the hummingbird feeder out there in late December, in a climate where snowmen hit up the Starbucks Drive Through for something hot to sup!
The bird feeder has become a symbol of failure and guilt around here. All summer long we kept it full of a mix of seed and the gourmet stuff with nuts in it. I watched as a woodpecker came along, casually tossed stuff out of the feeder to the ground until finally finding the holy grail of a coveted nut. The seed on the ground usually is eaten by the gray doves that never try to perch there miniature hen like bodies on the feeder. Of course, I’m guessing that the seed on the ground is also the first step onto the bridge of doom for many birds, as my cat Azrael is quite the hunter. It’s possible that she catches, kills, then displays these birds near the door so that the dog can be taken down a rung or two as he loves to catch and kill things but doesn’t have nearly the access to the playground that Azrael does.
Tick Tock Tick Tock back forth back forth….like the guilt of the telltale heart. Once in a while a chickadee or a Tufted Titmouse shows up and sits on the rung, peeking hopefully into the cavern where food used to be plentiful.
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK! Even the tiny stomachs of those feathered, echoes loud.
After one more pleading of “Awww…honey look! They’re so hungry!”, he brought home bird food.
On this Christmas Eve, watching the birds have plenty to eat in the cold is indeed a welcome sight!
With the small exception that Azrael seems to take the full birdfeeder as functioning bait as she lurks on the deck stairs! No birdies for Christmas, Az! Not for you!
But all of you dear readers, have a magical and sparkly Christmas! To each and every feathered, gilled, furry and uprighted!
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