Every evening all week long about dusk, the blackbirds start looking for a a roosting place. They settle in the tall trees of the neighborhood to debate it. They dart here and there and back again as the discussion continues.
It is loud and strident -- and they vote raucously on where this night's lodging will be . . .
Himself and I just hope they are in migration mode -- that they end up far, far away.
This isn't even in the timber; not in Missouri. This is small town Iowa! And this town ain't big enough for the likes of them!
3 comments:
Holy cow! That's a ruckus!
We enjoyed some birds this morning. Tony called me out to the front porch to what 2 pairs of gold finches flirting with each other. They darted from tree to tree, dancing in midair with each other. As we watched them, we noticed pair after pair after pair of birds--tiptoeing on roof tops, hiding under eaves and landing on tree brances. Neat!
d*mn birds!
Don't be a hater, Erica! Remember, I was pooped on once too, while riding my bicycle. How's that for perfect timing?
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