May 25, 2006

Birds Of A Feather




Whistles and a flurry of crimson wings
signals he watches when she looks for him;
skyward, eyes where he sways on cedar, sings,
flinging bursts of flattering hymns at whim.

from Cardinal Designs
by Helga Ross

---
Today was our 22nd wedding anniversary. My wife called me at work this morning and told me she had the best wedding present she could ask for -- a male cardinal perched on the backyard fence. She said she had an prefect view of it from the kitchen window. She said later the male and female cardinals were hunting up worms in the backyard.

With the exception of our pet canary, the cardinal is the official bird of our house. One of the presents I gave my wife for our first Christmas was a framed picture of a cardinal. More cardinal pictures have followed.

Maybe it's the pine trees that have grown up around the five acres over the past 17 years that provide the reason for the influx of cardinals in our yard? We've always seen them in the trees at the edge of the field, but now there are a number of pairs in the yard around the house. The hang out with the robins. I think the cardinals use the robins as an early warning system. Robins spoke easier than cardinals and make a distinct chirping call as they fly off.

It will be interesting to see if the blue birds continue to do their twice-daily invasion of our front and back bird baths: front in the morning; back in the afternoon. It is quite a pool party to behold. The bluebirds hangout with the purple finches and an occasional gold finch.

As the hayfield we built our house on has filled our with pines and shade tress over the last 18 years, the bird population has shifted noticeably. The meadowlarks can now only be heard off in the distance. Killdeers are rarely seen or heard. But mockingbirds have made an appearance as have catbirds.

Likewise, many things have changed in our 22 years of marriage. We've buried all our parents, my wife's brother and her niece. We've had our ups and downs and have learned, as my Mom used to say, "life's not bed of roses." Long ago, when she told me that, I said that it is a bed of roses -- it's a mix of the softness, beauty, and attractiveness mixed with the thorns that go with them.

No comments: