“Happy, sad, and hopeful” was the sequence of feelings I had over the events in my garden yesterday.
Happy
I saw a flock of birds sitting on a small cold frame in my garden, and quickly got out the camera to take a picture. It was through a window I should have cleaned ages ago, but when I uploaded the photos, I didn’t worry about a bit of blur. I was just very happy to see that most of the birds were crossbills. I hadn’t seen crossbills in my yard for a couple of years, and they don’t stay long when they do visit.
Their odd crossed bills are unique, and I find the way they walk, similar to the way parrots walk, endearing. So I was happy to see these birds.
Just behind the cold frame is a Florence fennel plant that has gone to seed, and the wind has knocked many of the seeds onto the top of the cold frame. Those seeds were the attraction for the crossbills.
Two of the twelve birds I can spot in the picture are some other kind of songbird, but the rest are crossbills.
Sad
I took several pictures and then the birds were spooked and all flew up. It seems there were many more in other parts of the garden, and as the flock took off I heard that sickening thump of a bird hitting a window.
I was shocked to see a female crossbill hanging onto the garden fence, presumably after hitting a window. I felt heartsick.
What to do? Go pick her up and keep her warm? It was a chilly morning. But maybe that would freak her out more and she was already traumatized.
Leave her alone? I just wanted to help. But would I do more harm than good?
I felt like a shallow reporter, taking pictures of a tragic situation.
It looked like she had taken quite a hit to the head. A drop of blood clung to the feathers behind her eye. At least the blood wasn’t pouring out. It seemed to have stopped.
The crossbill held on without moving for at least ten minutes. I thought she might be dead. But then she moved her head a little bit. Another five minutes went by and I worried about the chill in the air.
Hopeful
Suddenly she flew up to the top of the fence and sat there for about five seconds. Then she took off into the air, and flew into the safety of the thick branches of the nearby fir trees.
I hope she’ll make it. My worry is that her flock is not to be seen, but I hope she can call them back or somehow find them.
When we were kids, my brother and sisters and friends were delighted when a load of topsoil was delivered to backfill the edges of our new house that was in the final stages of construction. We would run to the top of the mound of dirt and then challenge each other to push us down and replace us, with taunts of “I’m the king of the castle, and you’re the dirty rascal.” (It was a good thing my mother didn’t hear us talking like that.)
Crispin is the king of the castle here, but he has no challengers at the moment. The new load of firewood is perfect for him as he snacks on one of the walnuts he has stashed away.
Owl photo by neighbour, R.G., of cougar video fame.
Next time you have a fish dinner, you may not even have to go fishing first. The meal is all served up on your new placemats.
I worked on these for many days, and when it was time to do the last step, I must have had that “horse to the barn” feeling and rushed through the corners when I was putting on the binding. Don’t look too closely. They are not neat and squared off.
BUT, I had a lot of fun making up these placemats, cutting out the shapes and finding a fabric that would serve as a reasonably close match to their colours in real life – not that you’d ever encounter the Darth Vader fish in real life. Each piece is first ironed on with some slightly sticky white webby material called Steam-a-Seam. When you peel off the fusible material, you iron the shape onto the place where you want it to be and then sew around it with your choice of stitch. Mine was a blanket stitch that grabs the edges every second stitch.
I doodled around with my free-motion stitching (which just means you can go in any direction by moving the material around – not just forward and back when the machine does the steering) and was able to put some scales on some of the fish and lines on their fins, and make the pupils and irises of their eyes.
In the background, I see two strips of material from the Captain’s old jeans, one light and one dark, to make up part of the water, and a light blue denim shirt for the top layer of water.
In case you were wondering, I do know that an octopus has eight legs, but he’s sitting on one of them.
That strange creature reminded me of one of my favourite Ogden Nash poems:
Now the placemats are all done, it’s time to use them when we set the table. I wonder who will get the first big blob of greasy gravy on them?
If it’s YOU, beware.
Darth Vader of the Sea is watching.
I can’t wait for spring!
When the Canada geese (not Canadian geese, please – they don’t have passports) start moving between fields and estuaries, in morning and evening flights, you know they are into autumn behaviour. They graze in the fields, picking at kernels of corn and anything else left behind in the harvest. Part of the day is spent near the water, preferably a river estuary, where they are relatively safe from approach by land, and where they can find bits of food, as they keep their feet cool while they soak up any sunshine that might still peek through gathering clouds.
Flights are constantly moving between field and stream, usually early in the morning and late at night. In the first video clip, the flocks are moving from the fields to the estuaries. In the second one you can see them tumbling out of the sky as they get ready to approach their destination. They seem to fold up their wings and tumble, open them to steady themselves, and then fold them again as needed. It’s their way of putting the brakes on and coming in for landing.
Please turn on the sound.
Apologies for the cell phone quality of the photo, but this post is more about content than photography.
My neighbour who took the cougar video in a previous post, also took a picture of this house he built with birds in mind.
The birds didn’t even have time to get interested when the squirrels decided to move in and occupy the premises with their expanding family of at least three babies. I doubt if they stayed long, but it was a funhouse for the kids. Too bad the cell phone doesn’t take clearer photos. Mine is the same. It’s not a high end phone and pictures taken quickly and at any distance just don’t come out that clear. But if we overlook the blurriness, the idea of these little guys exploring the three-storey house makes me smile. I felt it was worth posting regardless of the quality.
I wonder if they played musical chairs with the houses. Remember that game? There was always one fewer chair than there were children. We marched around to the music not straying too far from the chairs and when the music stopped, we had to sit down on a chair. One child was always left without a chair, so he was “out.” Another chair was removed and the game began again. Each time one child was out of luck and another chair was removed. At last there was only one chair and two children. I shudder to think of the scramble for that last chair. I would be tempted to declare two winners.
I’m sure the squirrels scrambled around these birdhouses. Maybe they played “King of the Castle” instead.
Do you see the tiny morsel of food that is crawling along the stucco wire towards the hummingbird?
