Birds, birds, birds! And other wild (and tame) life

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 I’ve enjoyed watching the wildlife around Couchwood lately. A rabbit has taken up abode somewhere on the south side—maybe in one of the neighbor’s yards, but it frolics in my yard, too. One afternoon, it ran hither and yon—“hither” being in what-we-used-to-call the "tennis court," and “yon,” into the lower hedge row. This is the third sighting of the animal. Better one rabbit than a hill full of black cats, like last year.

Hummingbirds have found the feeder hanging outside the dining-room window. One little thing seemed to be eating from the bottom of the feeder. It flew and lit on a beautyberry limb--the first time I’d seen one actually light--returned to the unusual place and sipped before flying, its white tail feathers fanning out.

And the robins! I wonder how many families of robins nest in the trees in the south yard. One day, I looked out and seven birds lined the rim of the birdbath. All had speckled breasts: they were juveniles. One bathed, the others perched and occasionally sipped. Another fluttered around the others, pecked at one like in a game of tag. Or “king of the hill.” They reminded me of a bunch of boys vying for position, staking out their territory. Soon, a blue jay called and flew in. None of the robins moved. Then a hummingbird flew by, and soon a wasp circled the bunch. Gradually, all dispersed.

And then there’s the neighbor’s dog. The worst thing (for me) Corey could have done was build a pen for it outside. Apparently, the mutt doesn’t like it, because last weekend while I sat outside, it yapped continually.

I hope you enjoy the cooler weather. I certainly do.

More about all things April

by Pat Laster

Are you still exulting in the exuberance of Easter? If that feeling was not caused by the extra-ordinary pomp of a worship service, perhaps it came later over a family gathering—like ours—or an afternoon with friends. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!
As I promised last week, I discovered from my uncle John Pelton that the plant with the maroon capsule buds and the trumpet-shaped blooms is Cross-Vine. He only had a small picture on my cell phone to go by, but he gave me three possibilities: cross vine, trumpet creeper and trumpet honeysuckle. Pictures on the Internet proved that my first-time-to-bloom vine is a Cross Vine.
Last week’s anagram for April is Pilar, a main character in Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls.
One morning this week, I watched out the south window as a male robin commandeered the freshly-filled birdbath. He stood his ground, er rim. A female cardinal flew up faced him off by staying on the other side. Soon, a brown thrasher joined the two. As if waiting for the robin to leave, the thrasher swooped down and ate from the grass. When it flew back to the rim, the cardinal left and so did the thrasher. Meanwhile and afterwards, the robin availed himself of a good bath. In the background, an adult squirrel nosed around in the grass for who-knows-what?
The narcissus are blooming. Since they are later than the daffodils, tulips and jonquils, I always wonder if they are even going to bloom. Just when I decide they are too crowded, up pops the first white blossom and then another. Soon, there are enough of the heavily-scented, long-stemmed whites to snap off, take inside and slide down into a water-filled, lead-crystal vase. Along with Easter lilies and hyacinths, these flowers can be enjoyed by sight and smells.
A couple of tiger swallowtail butterflies have appeared this week, stopping at the azaleas and the dianthus.
April is Parkinson’s Awareness Month. It is also National Soy Foods Month. According to Rosemary Boggs, ADG, three companies that make soy products are Soyjoy, Morningstar Farms and WestSoy.
April is also the peak of tornado season that runs from March to June. (ADG wire)
The April poem for this week (in celebration of National Poetry Month) was written by Langston Hughes, who can also be heard reading it on the Internet. I found it in a severely-yellowed, Scholastic paperback book --bought for thirty-five cents by my first-grade-teacher (now deceased) mother, Anna Pearl Couch-- the Arrow Book of Poetry – poems selected by Ann McGovern and published in 1965.

“April Rain Song"

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night

And I love the rain. – Langston Hughes.

So do I.
written 2012 by Pat Laster dba lovepat press