At first glance it looks like the farmer grew a crop of mallards.
On second glance we can see that there are widgeons among them.
At third glance, in a close look near the bottom of the photo we can see that the farmer actually grew potatoes. Some were missed and have been unearthed by the ducks to nibble on. It’s not their first choice of food but who knows what other seeds or insects may be hiding alongside the potatoes?
D is for duck, but when they sense danger, they don’t “duck.” They fly!
I have loved birds even when I was a small child. My mother used to tell me that the birds were talking to me. If I listened, I could hear what they were saying. Let’s just say that the power of suggestion worked overtime on me. I imagine the birds talking to me (and to each other) even now in my old(er) age.
Most birds bring us joy with their songs and their antics.
Some bring us a rude awakening when we walk under rows of them perched on overhead wires.
I had to wash my jacket after walking home under these birds.
But the owner of this car had a bigger washing job to do the next morning. He won’t park under the wires again.
Still, without birds, the world would be quiet, and not as happy as it could be.
Enjoy your day, and remember to listen to what the birds are saying. They may be talking to you.
Today they are saying:
B is for birds.
Imagine being known for your good flavour on the dinner table. The godwit was known, several hundred years ago, to be a “god whit,” a good creature (for the dinner table, it is presumed).
It was netted and sold at market, fetching even more than a snipe might have sold for in those long ago days.
These marbled godwits were dabbling around at the beach, poking their long bills into the sand in search of any small invertebrates they might feast on.
Their long legs help to keep their bodies from getting wet unnecessarily, but these birds do swim. For foraging though, they have more luck near the shore in waters shallow enough to walk around in without getting their bellies wet. Their long bills can easily probe the sand or mud there without having to dive for what may or may not be there.
They are no longer considered a target as a gamebird. Luckily for them, it is too much work to hunt and prepare these birds for the small amount of meat they offer for the table.
And like the turkeys that the president pardons each year, these godwits are thankful for their own version of the “Passover” at Thanksgiving.
Before the big windstorm happened, the Captain was keeping a few cans of beer cool, in a plastic tote on top of the patio table that you can just see the corner of at the right side of the photo.
The second patio table, the round one on the left, used to sit in the middle of the deck where the fallen hanging basket is lying on its side now. The wind must have blown the table over as far as it could go.
The oranges were on the table beside the beer cans, to keep cool. I also had a small parsley plant in a pot. You might see it lying on its side without the pot near the far end of the deck. Just a matted clump of dirt with a few yellow green leaves in it.
The blue pieces are part of a small clay pot that I painted about ten years ago. I always liked that little pot, but never imagined that the wind could send it flying off the table and smash it. The white saucer used to be under the parsley pot. Not sure where that pot ended up. I think it was plastic so it may have flown to the neighbours’ place or be in the next town by now.
The bits of branches from the fir trees are relatively small compared to the branch that came down just beyond the deck, as you will see in the next photo.
I’m glad no people, dogs, or squirrels were out for a walk when this branch decided to drop in, and I was so happy to see the squirrels and two hummingbirds alive in the morning.
And so, further to the previous post about Thanksgiving Day, and all we have to be thankful for, I feel very thankful to have been spared major trouble from this windstorm. Even the few hours of a loss of power were not too bad. I can’t begin to imagine the terror people go through in hurricanes. Hearing this wind roar through like a freight train was bad enough.
Since those unfortunate fat white turkeys have been raised in a domestic poultry setting, these wild turkeys have a lot to be thankful for every Thanksgiving Day. American Thanksgiving Day is on Nov. 28 this year. It’s still a few days away. Time for us to think about how blessed we are.
The golden-crowned sparrow and his girl are having an adventure on the feeding station roof. They are observed from a distance by a fox sparrow and his friend.
This spotted towhee has been living here for quite a while.
His wife is somewhere nearby but she’s more camera shy.
She looks much like her flashy husband, but her colours are slightly muted.
They have been nesting on the ground inside my fenced garden, usually under the thick rosemary bush. But this year I cut the rosemary back quite a bit, not thinking I was making the usual nesting area less inviting.
So the towhees chose the messiest corner of the garden where I had not weeded, and put a nest in the mess. I let the poppies grow up in the raised bed, thinking it would hide the weeds until I could get to them. Little did I know I was also helping hide a towhee nest.
I sneaked in there with my camera and got a picture of one towhee baby still in the nest. Mother had flown out when I came close but she went right back after I left. Now I’m hoping the baby will make it through the next critical days and weeks.
There’s no question of catching up with my weeding in this part of the jungle now.
Please click on the links below if you would like to take advantage of smashwords’ e-book sale. My e-books are 50% off during July.
Last week the Captain and I went to a nearby beach. I took a few pictures and thought, “Why am I taking pictures of nothing?” When I looked at the photos later, I thought how lonely the sea and the sky looked and John Masefield came to mind. I have always loved his poem, “Sea Fever.”
(By the way, did you know that John Masefield was England’s poet laureate from 1930 to 1967?)
The first line was especially appropriate.
The rest of the poem didn’t fit because the sea was really quite tame, and the wind was not like a “whetted knife.”
But the loneliness of the great expanse of water was prevalent.
You may want to click on these photos to enlarge them, especially the ones with the lonely creatures in them. They are so tiny in an immense world.
In the first photo, the general setting. Notice the pink and blue striations in the water.
Now, notice in each subsequent photo, the one lonely thing in the setting. You will need to click to enlarge or you won’t see much. Use the back arrow to return to the page afterwards.
**For sure you need to click to enlarge the photo to find Mrs. Seal on the far side of the photo.
wordsfromanneli 