The neighborhood ducks are out there, but Dizbo's squawkin' at a selection of birds on my bird branch, including a gendered pair of brownheaded cowbirds, along with a pair of rather tiny breeding goldfinches. This is the first time I've noticed a visit by cowbirds to that tree. I'd been struck by one in my work neighborhood a while back and made this icon, plus wrote a poem about it, when I found out, looking them up, about their bad rep, which (besides knocks on its appearance and chattiness) really hits 'em on this observation: "Females forgo building nests and instead put all their energy into producing eggs, sometimes more than three dozen a summer. These they lay in the nests of other birds, abandoning their young to foster parents, usually at the expense of at least some of the host’s own chicks."
We'd probably look down our noses at them if they practiced birdy birth control instead.
I'm a hypocrite, tho, to some extent, on this sort of thing. I don't defend blue jays, even if their complicated aggressiveness may save other birds from predators.
This long slow soak of a rain made it easy to sleep in this morning. I thought it was maybe 7am when it was well after 10. My back was a mess again, arising; weeks of lower back pain now. What a great thing, though, such rain, windows open. Occasionally some dull thunder will grumble in the distance.
When dear ol' Sara moved to DC-ish from Indiana, years back, she spoke of how, in the new locale, it never seemed to rain all day. And then I realized I hadn't noticed that, but I'd known such long stretches as a kid, and they seemed rare in Baltimore. Maybe things swirl too much in the mid-Atlantic for a good old-fashioned rainy day. Maybe they wondered why there were suggestions for rainy day activities for kids, since you could just wait an hour or two and the rain would go away for a while? Or maybe I was just more inside more often and less in tune with water in the air? And maybe I'm remembering wrong, and/or was, then. The first good chunk of my life I hadn't much learned the ways of memory. Even that one might build up a knowledge of birds, trees, flowering shrubs. I suspect, now, that I was too busy with somethings else, other things the memory of which I can only play at.