wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


44 Comments

Good Ole Mother Nature

You’ve seen pictures of my woodshed before, but take a closer look at the wood. It is dotted with birds, most of them Oregon juncos and pine siskins all trying to find shelter and food to keep enough warmth in their little bodies to survive until the fury of the storm has passed.

The rain lashed out in torrents and blew into all shelters sideways. The feeder is blurry, in constant motion, blown by the howling wind. The Captain and I made up a hanging cage for yet another suet block and moved two birdfeeders farther into the woodshed under cover. As we worked in that screaming wind we noticed more than one tiny bedraggled siskin huddling under pieces of firewood, feathers soaked, desperate to get out of the piercing wind that slapped icy water onto their wee little bodies. I could have cried. But we did what we could and had to let “good ole Mother Nature” do what she does best – kill off the weak. Survival of the fittest is hard to watch sometimes.

I took two quick videos of the storm from the deck of our house. In the onslaught of the wind and rain, I kept pressing the wrong button to stop the video and as I lowered the camera I caught an ugly picture of my slippers and an empty flowerpot. Not Academy Award film quality, but you’ll get an idea of the force of the storm. What you won’t see are some of the gusts that were way more violent than what I captured here.

If you turn on the sound, you’ll hear only the music of nature.

Today the birdfeeders are empty again. I’m refilling them a lot but if it will help some birds survive, I will keep on filling them as often as needed.

These little birds make me happy all year, so I want to do what I can to help them out when they need it.

No poem today. I’m too unhappy about watching them suffering yesterday.


35 Comments

Windblown, but not Sun-tanned

When I was a child I really liked a song by Cole Porter. It was called “True Love,” sung by Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly. I was too young in 1956 to be a fan of these oldies, but the song was around much later and I always liked it.

It goes like this:

Sun-tanned, windblown, 
Honeymooners at last alone,
Feeling far above par,
Oh, how lucky we are.

While I give to you
And you give to me,
True love, true love.
So on and on it will always be,
True love, true love.

For you and I 
Have a guardian angel on high
With nothing to do,
But to give to you
And to give to me,
Love forever true.
 

If you don’t want to watch the 50s style banter of the movie, “High Society,” just advance the video to about 1:06 to hear the beautiful old love song, “True Love.”

You don’t have to be Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly to be in love. Just look at these pigeon guillemots, resting on the bow of the MV Eden Lake off the west coast of the Queen Charlotte Islands. They are also in love, just resting for a while, and whispering “sweet nothin’s” to each other.

Fast forward to Anneli’s place on Vancouver Island. The last of 2020 is going out “big and ugly.” One of the trees outside my window is leaning and would have fallen except that a bigger tree-friend caught it.

It’s a winter storm to match the one we had in mid-November. Blinding rain blowing sideways.

But, like Covid, it can’t go on forever. Better times await us in 2021.

All the best to you my blogging friends. May we all have a great year ahead.

And love will prevail.

 


50 Comments

Christmas Acrostic

Merry Christmas!

My effort at a double acrostic forced me to forego the rhyme factor, but I’ve tried to put together a Christmas message, using the first and last letters, read downwards. If we keep these things in mind, maybe we’ll help to improve someone’s life just a little bit.

And before you ask, no, it didn’t snow here, except up in the hills. This varied thrush visited the feeder a couple of years ago, but he looked so pretty on the snow, I wanted to put him in this post.

Knowing Yule is cominG,
It's time to trim the treE,
Now that I am senior, and the claN,
Depends on mE.
Need to fill the lardeR,
Extra goodie-food will be, sO,
Special in the coming dayS,
So smile and so will I.  
(Yikes! Where's the rhyme? Gone to the North Pole.)
And when it comes to Christmas nighT,
No stores will open staY,
Done with shopping, all's class A,
Good times at home remaiN.
If Christmas music fills our minD,
Vast troubles leave us alL,
In giving freely, as we dO
No need for price on luV.
Good will's enough and that is freE.

Ta-dah-dahdah-deedee.

Merry Christmas even without snow.
Ho-ho-h-h-h-h! I think I see Santa!

Y’all have a wonderful Christmas time, y’hear?

And don’t pay too much attention to what those birds say. Their jabbering is for the birds.


61 Comments

The Jolly Holly

Same old holly berries, same old food. Where’s a juicy earthworm when you need one?

Sigh…. Well, there’s nothing to do but to go for it. Hmm … let’s see … I wonder if they all taste the same.

I don’t have teeth, so I guess I just have to swallow the thing whole. Not very ladylike, but here goes. Gulp!

Oh man! These are big enough to choke a horse. Good thing I’m not a horse. Do I look like a Christmas decoration?

This is the last one … OOPS! Just about fell off my perch. I guess that means I’ve had enough.

Have you tasted holly berries?
Oh, of course, you did.
Little ones, and
Luscious ones,
You're sitting right amid.
But it is best if you're a bird, as
Everyone does know,
Red is pretty
Red is ripe
Yet stomach aches can grow.


So snag the berries off the branch,
Nab that one by your feet,
And after tasting, 
Can you tell,
Keen as you are to eat?

"These berries certainly are great,"
I heard the robin say,
"Mushy, minty, maybe I'll 
Eat all I can today."

If you’ve managed to get through my little rhyme, you may have noticed that the first letters of each line, read downwards, give a little message. Do you see it?

If you would like to have a quick review of some apostrophe problems many people have (and many don’t even know it), please have a look at my latest writing tips on my other blog, anneli’s place. https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/


48 Comments

Deadly Windows

I wonder how often you think about your windows and skylights and the bird traps they can be.

Yesterday the Captain was doing some jobs in his workshop. He had the regular door and the garage door to that building wide open as he was going in and out a lot. After he’d been in the house for a bite of lunch, he went back out to the workshop and saw this little nuthatch flying against the workshop window, trying to get out.

The nuthatch had come into the shop and then, fooled by the light, thought he could get out through the window. He kept flying at the pane of glass, trying in vain to escape, even though the door and the garage door were both still wide open. All he saw was the window and he couldn’t get through it.

The Captain used a soft trout fishing net to capture him and bring him outside. I noticed that his beak had a lot of spider webs on it. The Captain acknowledged that his workshop window is a bit cobwebby.

Luckily the nuthatch was only a bit stunned, and not seriously hurt. He sat in the Captain’s hand for a few extra seconds after I took the picture and then he flew away. I think he was one happy bird!

Do you have a skylight in a breezeway or in the covered entrance to your house? Check it for trapped birds.

If you hang a basket of flowers there, especially pink ones, you’ll kill countless hummingbirds. Even without the flowers to attract them, hummingbirds can fly in and then not realize that the sky above them is blocked off with a glass pane. They will try and try to fly up and out through that closed skylight, sometimes injuring themselves and exhausting themselves until they fall down and often times die.

This fellow is one of the two lucky ones that I helped rescue from a neighbour’s skylight.

It also reminded me that I should have kept my hummingbird feeder up especially in this colder weather. We have had hummingbirds overwinter here on Vancouver Island in the last several years, so it helps to supplement their diet when their natural food is scarce.

Flying up into the sky,

I was stopped and don’t know why,

Up I flew repeatedly,

But it soon defeated me.

I was panicked, I was tired,

Minutes more, I’d be expired.

Holding on for life so dear,

I saw Anneli coming near.

Up the ladder she did climb,

Capturing me from behind

Softly she held onto me,

Wobbling down so carefully.

Dark and warm and safe I was

Then she let me go to buzz,

Back to my own territory,

Now she’ll tell the world my story.

Please beware the window pane

Skylights fool us time and again.

Please don’t kill us with these traps

You don’t mean to kill perhaps.

But we birds are easily tricked

By the choice of panes you’ve picked.

Meanwhile we’ll be careful too

Knowing what these panes can do.


34 Comments

The Challenge of Change

A new birdfeeder presented unexpected challenges for some birds. The seeds were visible, but access to them was different from the way it was done in the old feeders. All the outlets for the seeds are near the bottom of this new feeder.

Very simple for most of the birds. The sparrow has it figured out. “Come on down,” he calls, but the towhee, on the top right, is still puzzled.

“Nice seeds, but how in the heck do you get at them?”

“Whatcha doin’ up there, Rufus?” the Oregon junco called.

“ARRRGGHH! These are the darndest things. I can see them. Why can’t I get at them?”

“You just stick your head in the red dish … look … like this!”

“I just don’t get it. I’m looking right at the seeds, and I can’t get them.”

Honestly, I don’t know what else to say to him. What a dimwit.

“I guess you could always have some suet, Rufus.”

Brand new feeder, brand new seeds,

Specially made to suit their needs.

High-tech model, high-tech spout

Way too hard to figure out.

Rufus hammers, Rufus picks,

He’s exhausted all his tricks.

Junco coaxes, junco shows,

Why is it that junco knows,

How to get them, how to eat?

Rufus must admit defeat.

He can’t get it, he can’t do it,

Junco points up at the suet.

Don’t go hungry, don’t despair,

Eat that suet over there.

Feeling stupid, feeling dumb,

What a birdbrain I’ve become.

Rufus gorges, Rufus gobbles,

Now so fat, his flying wobbles.


27 Comments

Housebound

“Throw your head back, open your mouth wide, and look hungry,” chirped Robbie Robin. “And, oh yeah, peep as loud as you can.  Ya gotta sound desperate … like this: PEEP! PEEP! PEEP!”

“Is that you making trouble again, Robbie? You know I can only feed one of you at a time. Maybe two. Good thing your father is helping out for a change.”

“Sorry, Mom! But we’re all kind of hungry here … not to mention BORED! We’ve been in this one-bedroom nest for over 10 days now. It’s so bohhhhh-ring.”

 

“Hah! Four more days, she says. We’re going to be falling out of the nest by then. I mean there’s hardly room for me, and then there’s Ryan, Ross, and Roberta. I don’t even know if Roberta’s going to make it. She’s kind of small and getting squished. Can you blame me for being a bit grumpy these days?”

“Hey! There’s Anneli with her shaky video camera. Maybe I’ll show her how I can do my exercises and stretches, and scratch my itches. ”

“Oh Robbie, you’re so boring. You put me to sleep.” Roberta yawned and nodded off.

 

See for yourself. Roberta nods off and so does Ryan.

 


44 Comments

Weeding Words

Here is my garden, looking a little bit neglected as I spend more time copy-editing than I do gardening. I suppose you could say I’m weeding, but it’s words I’m weeding out, not “weed” weeds.

A western flycatcher flew over to the fence and gave me a condescending look.

 

Ooooooh! Anneli! That doesn’t look good. You’ve got to get out there and clean up that mess you call a garden.

 

So I asked if he’d like to help me weed.

“Tell me you’re joking!” he said.

“I don’t think so!” he said. “… Awww … don’t look like that. You should have gotten on top of the job right at the start!”

 

Call me when the work is done.

“Weeding words,” she calls her job,

Didn’t know she’s such a snob.

Doesn’t get her hands too dirty

Asks for help from this lil birdie.

 

I’m no weeder, I must say,

Must learn that another day,

Weeding plants is bad enough,

Weading books is way too tough.

 

 

 

 


29 Comments

Brave or Foolish?

Mother merganser had her hands full. Her brood was something to be proud of, but the full-time babysitting was nerve-racking to say the least. It was especially bad when one (there is always one!) had to march to his own drum.

“I just saw a little fish go by. See him there, just under the surface? He flipped me the fin and said, ‘Bite me!’ So I thought, ‘Why not? It’s what mergansers do.'”

“Seems he got away, but wait a minute. Where’s my mother?”

And yikes! Look who’s giving me the hairy eyeball.

“Muh – muh – muh – mu-u-u-u-um! Help!”

“Oh whew! Those people in the boat scared the eagle away. Wait up, Mom! … What’s that? I should stick with the group?  But, er … I was … just trying to catch us a fish.”

 


42 Comments

Birds at Vernon Lake

We parked our trailer and unloaded the skiff to have it ready for use at the edge of Vernon Lake.

The campsite was visited by many birds. Here are only a few of them. Many stayed hidden though they sang their hearts out all day.

This is a hairy woodpecker. I thought at first it was a downy, which looks very similar, but the hairy woodpecker has a much heavier and longer beak than the downy.

One of the birds I heard a lot, was Swainson’s thrush. I love the song he sings, “You’re pretty, you’re pretty, oh really.” But he is very elusive and I couldn’t get a photo of him.

He’s a very plain version of an immature robin but without any hint of black or red. If you click on this link you’ll see a photo on the bird site: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Swainsons_Thrush/id

Next to visit, was a Steller’s jay, but I almost mistook him for something else. He is a bit pale and scruffy, and this has me wondering if it is an immature bird.

Below, we have the red-breasted sapsucker, probably the very one I took pictures of for a previous post. He was hanging around the campsite the whole time we were there.

And no wonder! He has already made quite an investment in this tree, sipping sap and nabbing insects.

But do you see what I see? Circling the tree just below the chipped bark is a nasty looking petrified snake. I think he’s guarding the dinner table for the sapsucker.

You won’t see me trying to get near him. He looks mean. Is that blood on his lips?