Your baby cardinal reminded me of one of my own back-yard denizens.
We throw out birdseed in the back yard, then sit back and watch the show. I am always amazed at how so many different species of bird tolerate each other so well when they are feeding. Only the black-birds and doves (yes, doves) are occasional ass-holes. Even they are fine with just a few inches of clearance.
A fuzzy baby male cardinal showed up in early spring. Over a couple of months, we watched him grow into a y.a. We had little fear for his survival, as he obviously had very good genes; he was quick and alert, never feeding unless other birds were, and the first to lift off at any sign of one of our neighborhood’s numerous cats.
One day, at 2/3 grown or so, he showed up with a young female. It was an instance of the well-known food-sharing courtship ritual. They fed for a couple minutes. Then she sedately hopped over to him and they rubbed heads and flew away. Who knows what happened after.
I could tell you about hummingbirds thronging like hungry bees, the effortless grace of mourning doves arriving and their noisy flutter departing, the fat little swallows powering up to speed and soaring, the suave, inquisitive skunks, but instead I’ll bring up raccoons, who the other night, quite late, I heard munching something (carissa fruit?) in my front yard. I went out to see what it was, first mimicking their munching sounds, and then addressing them in my boring baritone. Eventually they came towards me as if they wanted to hear more.
They almost certainly weren’t registered to vote, and even if they were Democrats they’d hardly matter in this corner of Orange County, so I went inside and closed the door.
bad Jim, Orange County? NY? So much of my youth there, where my grandparents had a summer home; then (when my grandfather died in 1957), my grandmother lived there all the time. In Washingtonville — well, actually, Rock Tavern. Beatty Road. About ten years ago my husband and I got off the thruway and checked things out. Not much changed since my last visit in the early 1970’s, when my grandmother died. Beatty Road still a dirt road. Even the Bacher house (not on Beatty Road) was sitting there, unused but at least not destroyed (its core pre-Revolutionary — huge walk-in fire-place, the whole bit) — taken by eminent domain when there were grand Rockefeller plans for Stewart Air Force Base becoming another JFK. In the 1950’s, I played with the Bachers’ tenant farmer children — Dutch they were! I mean, born in the Netherlands, Dutch-speaking — and helped them milk cows, slipping wooden shoes on my feet as we entered the barn. (I have a very vivid memory of playing Monopoly with the whole Dutch family — how fitting!)
{ 14 comments }
godoggo 07.20.14 at 6:54 am
There’s really no reason to be condescending.
Chris Brooke 07.20.14 at 7:26 am
How fine they are.
Matt 07.20.14 at 1:18 pm
You did a fine job getting them to line up, except for that grumpy one in the upper right.
ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© 07.20.14 at 3:59 pm
What a bunch of cuties!
P.S. I’ve got a few bird pics up.
~
William Berry 07.20.14 at 5:43 pm
@ifthethunderdontgetya:
Your baby cardinal reminded me of one of my own back-yard denizens.
We throw out birdseed in the back yard, then sit back and watch the show. I am always amazed at how so many different species of bird tolerate each other so well when they are feeding. Only the black-birds and doves (yes, doves) are occasional ass-holes. Even they are fine with just a few inches of clearance.
A fuzzy baby male cardinal showed up in early spring. Over a couple of months, we watched him grow into a y.a. We had little fear for his survival, as he obviously had very good genes; he was quick and alert, never feeding unless other birds were, and the first to lift off at any sign of one of our neighborhood’s numerous cats.
One day, at 2/3 grown or so, he showed up with a young female. It was an instance of the well-known food-sharing courtship ritual. They fed for a couple minutes. Then she sedately hopped over to him and they rubbed heads and flew away. Who knows what happened after.
Sorry, no pix. The images are all in my head.
ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© 07.20.14 at 10:51 pm
They’re still good, William. Thanks for mind pictures!
~
Dan 07.21.14 at 2:48 am
Love meerkats!
Meredith 07.21.14 at 3:23 am
MeerKATS? Cf. fisher cats. The collision of Dutch and English produces its own curious language.
bad Jim 07.21.14 at 8:52 am
I could tell you about hummingbirds thronging like hungry bees, the effortless grace of mourning doves arriving and their noisy flutter departing, the fat little swallows powering up to speed and soaring, the suave, inquisitive skunks, but instead I’ll bring up raccoons, who the other night, quite late, I heard munching something (carissa fruit?) in my front yard. I went out to see what it was, first mimicking their munching sounds, and then addressing them in my boring baritone. Eventually they came towards me as if they wanted to hear more.
They almost certainly weren’t registered to vote, and even if they were Democrats they’d hardly matter in this corner of Orange County, so I went inside and closed the door.
AB 07.21.14 at 11:20 am
There’s a restaurant in Chicago called “Mercat a la Planxa.” I know it doesn’t mean meerkat on the floor but that’s the image that arises.
Dr. Hilarius 07.21.14 at 5:27 pm
Meerkats pose of their own accord. https://www.flickr.com/photos/115042006@N07/14706869171/
Meredith 07.23.14 at 4:40 am
bad Jim, Orange County? NY? So much of my youth there, where my grandparents had a summer home; then (when my grandfather died in 1957), my grandmother lived there all the time. In Washingtonville — well, actually, Rock Tavern. Beatty Road. About ten years ago my husband and I got off the thruway and checked things out. Not much changed since my last visit in the early 1970’s, when my grandmother died. Beatty Road still a dirt road. Even the Bacher house (not on Beatty Road) was sitting there, unused but at least not destroyed (its core pre-Revolutionary — huge walk-in fire-place, the whole bit) — taken by eminent domain when there were grand Rockefeller plans for Stewart Air Force Base becoming another JFK. In the 1950’s, I played with the Bachers’ tenant farmer children — Dutch they were! I mean, born in the Netherlands, Dutch-speaking — and helped them milk cows, slipping wooden shoes on my feet as we entered the barn. (I have a very vivid memory of playing Monopoly with the whole Dutch family — how fitting!)
Meredith 07.23.14 at 4:46 am
And, I would add, the Mulligan farm seemed in tact. Must get in the Mulligans, wonderful Irish farmers on Beatty Road.
Eszter 07.24.14 at 5:17 am
Love it!
Comments on this entry are closed.