wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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A Harsh Surprise

The skiff of snow we had the other day was just the prelude to get us in tune for the magnum opus.

Some snow for Christmas was a fine seasonal touch, even if it was a bit hard on the birds, but the snowfall we had in the last two days, coupled with a drastic drop in temperatures and an increase in NW wind – well, let’s just say I’m praying for the return of my old friends, wind and rain.

Since the Arctic winds are coming from the north or northwest, I decided to put more birdseed on the leeward side of the house. Out of the wind, the picnic blanket won’t blow away or freeze to the ground as readily.

So, not being particularly house proud, I sprinkled bird seed liberally by my front door and in the dry edges near the house on the south and east sides.

Emma can’t believe her eyes. So many birds. You know she’s a “bird dog” but that is not supposed to apply to songbirds. She’s in shock that birds are right there on the other side of the glass – you know, that glass beside the door where she always looks out when she’s left behind.

“Wow!” she says. “A varied thrush!” And she tells herself to stop drooling.

“Oh, it’s you again,” says Vera Thrush. “You should stop poking your nose into the glass pane. You’re mucking it all up with noseprints.”

“On second thought,” thinks Vera, “I should maybe check out another area and come back later when that maniac killer dog is having a nap. But … does she ever sleep?” Vera turns to go. “Better safe than sorry…. Hmmpf! Can’t believe I said that. Such a clich√©.”

Vera’s feathers fluff up soft,

Keeping warmer air aloft

Trapped beside her chilly skin,

She will not let winter in.

 

Hard to fathom so much cold,

Although pretty to behold,

But the chill is not a thrill,

It is often known to kill.

 

Thankfully, the seeds are spread,

All around the front door tread,

Even though they don’t belong,

Matters more that we stay strong.

 

First comes need and then decor,

Later we’ll clean up the door,

But we’ll wait till Emma’s busy

So she won’t get in a tizzy.

 

All these seeds are such a gift

Hard to find them in a drift,

Front door feeding works just fine,

Think I’ll grab some, make them mine.

 

 

 


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Tony the Towhee

Lincoln was minding his own business when he thought he heard a soft, croaky voice calling, “Eh?”

“Who’s that talking to me?” Lincoln asked. “Oh, NO! It’s Tony the Terrible. I don’t mind sharing a bit of the food but he’s so messy!”

“Who’re you calling messy? It was like this when I arrived.”

“Now, let’s see … is that a good one or another empty hull…?”

“Found one, but what’s the taste going to be like?”

“Meh! Just as I feared. These ones that are lying around are getting a bit stale. So much for cleaning up.”

“Tony, I swear, if you mess up my lunch, I – I – I – …. Well, just don’t make me come down there, or it’s Ta-ta, Tony!”

“Oops! I think lunch is over. I’m going to get a quick ‘Take-out’ and skedaddle. I don’t think Lincoln cares about social distancing and I don’t like him when he gets mad.”

“How do you like that? He’s cleaned me out! No wonder they call him Tony the Terrible.”

“Guess I’ll just have to go harvest some more fir cones. But what a lot of work!”