Bird-watching...

31 August 2025: With a frequency and intensity that is almost too much, given their intense beauty against the blue sky, the goldfinches have returned to my birdfeeders, having been absent since the early spring. They join the most common birds regularly convening there: red finches, cardinals, and (to a lesser extent) black-headed chickadees. 

The girls are pleased and every once in a while even manage to share window space to watch them. This late-summer snapshot of a Sunday morning makes me smile.

First visitor...

29 March 2025: After I got my parents a BirdBuddy feeder a couple of years ago, I asked them for one for myself (when I couldn't think of any other gifts to ask for!). Since today really felt like the end of winter (it's 77 degrees at nearly 7:00 p.m. when I type this), I finally set it up outside.

Behold the first visitor!

Sunday vibes...

15 May 2022: Finished my weekly book goal to-do list, along with some house-cleaning and yard work this weekend. Also submitted everything for the department newsletter. So, a very good week for summer productivity. 

Resisting the urge to get even more work done and instead sitting here with Wes, with the windows open and some post-rain breeze coming in. Action at the bird feeder is really delightful: goldfinches (up to three at once!), a bluebird, cardinals, and a great big woodpecker. Treating myself to Girls5Eva season 2. I also had lunch with my parents earlier and have some leftovers in the fridge. Might not even have to cook tonight. Chill time!

Off it goes...

7 October 2020: As I walked to my class in Reynolds Hall today, Carrie was waiting outside. Usually that means the technology isn't work (she teaches there right before I do). "What's wrong this time?" I asked her. 

"Nothing wrong. Just weird," she answered. "There's a bird trapped in there."

Lord, did I worry about that bird. It flew back and forth throughout the class and looked stressed. And yes: I sure did project every bit of my own baggage on that little creature. (Among other emotions, I kept thinking about being stuck in the GSO airport on my way to an interview in upstate NY, watching a bird fly back and forth, trapped inside.)

When the class was over, I found a door in the back to prop open. A couple of hours later, Carrie texted me that it got out. What a relief. 

Found on my walk...

7 September 2020: As I was returning to my office after my lunch-time walk, I passed this bit of beauty on the sidewalk. First, I walked by it, but then turned around to get it. I think I'll keep it in my office as a reminder of beauty around us, even when we might not be looking for it. 

"Bird-Understander"

21 May 2014: I saw this poem posted on Facebook and, having had a similar experience once, immediately connected to it. It's a terrific poem about love, about sympathy, and about language, and I am grateful to have read it.

"Bird-Understander"
Craig Arnold

Of many reasons I love you here is one

the way you write me from the gate at the airport

so I can tell you everything will be alright

so you can tell me there is a bird

trapped in the terminal      all the people

ignoring it       because they do not know

what do with it       except to leave it alone

until it scares itself to death

it makes you terribly terribly sad

You wish you could take the bird outside

and set it free or       (failing that)

call a bird-understander

to come help the bird

All you can do is notice the bird

and feel for the bird       and write

to tell me how language feels

impossibly useless

but you are wrong

You are a bird-understander

better than I could ever be

who make so many noises

and call them song

These are your own words

your way of noticing

and saying plainly

of not turning away

from hurt

you have offered them

to me       I am only

giving them back

if only I could show you

how very useless

they are not

"Felix Crow"

I just heard this one again on the Poem of the Day podcast while out walking in my neighborhood, an activity that always involves some bird watching.

This is one clear case of needing to both hear and see a poem, though, as those terrific short lines don't come across as clearly in the audio version. It's a fun poem ("quid pro crow") with fun rhymes ("rudiments"/"students"). I also love the double "g"s in lines 14-16. And the (sort of) unexpected turn in the last lines. I've written before about (just a bit) about how Ryan can remind one of Dickinson, and I can't help but be reminded of Dickinson's bird, who is ultimately a bit less approachable.

"Felix Crow" 
Kay Ryan

Crow school

is basic and

short as a rule—

just the rudiments

of quid pro crow

for most students.

Then each lives out

his unenlightened

span, adding his

bit of blight

to the collected

history of pushing out

the sweeter species;

briefly swaggering the

swagger of his

aggravating ancestors

down my street.

And every time

I like him

when we meet.

Bird watching...

One of my favorite things about where I live is the pretty tree out behind my patio. I've hung my bird feeder from there and, as a result, it's a pretty busy spot for our local avian friends. Bing and Wes love to watch the birds, and I catch myself spending more and more time doing the same. Yesterday, at the height of the snow, it was actually quite extraordinary: I've never seen so many cardinals in one spot. At one point, I counted at least six males in the tree (fewer females, though--I'm not sure where they were). I know it's not that rare to love and appreciate the beauty of a cardinal, but I really do. The brightness of their red feathers against the white snow was just lovely.

I tried to take some pictures, but as soon as I opened the door out back, the birds noticed and from that point on, they were more scattered and spent less time sitting around the feeder. I did my best, though, and thought I'd share some shots with you.


This guy has the feeder all to himself!


A female eating on one side, a male on the other. I like how it looks like she's looking at me.


Can you spot the bird way up in the branches?

As I mentioned, once I opened the door, the birds really kept their distance. It didn't help that I had called attention to the two felines who were also eagerly watching their every move--especially since there was no longer a closed door between them. But I did take some more pictures, specifically of the birds that were far away, but still stood out against the white snow. I've left these (more or less) un-cropped, as I think part of the fun is seeing that flash of red standing out in a field of white.







Hope you enjoyed!

Something to chase the nightmares away...

Okay, so if like me, you are worried you'll have "Zeno the killer robot" nightmares, perhaps you need an image to cleanse your mind. May I present, then, the monkey and the pigeon?



So cute, right? You can read the story here.