Helping Hands

After breakfast this morning, our birdbath had several visitors that we don't see all the time. First, 2 fat Robins drank opposite each other, the early sun glinting like diamonds off the water droplets on their beaks.  They were joined by a Flicker and a small flock of Cedar Waxwings.  The Waxwings are such beautiful birds, and aptly named.  I had the impression this morning, that before they left the shelter of the cedars, they had dipped the tips of their feathers in large pots of hot red and yellow wax.  They came as a group, eating a few winterberries from the branches I had propped up by the birdbath, and they left together, moving in one long, synchronized formation.  

Our birdbath has a small device that prevents it from freezing in the winter, and when the pond is frozen over, as it is now, the birdbath becomes a magnet for birds.  Eight bluebirds came next and lined up close around the rim, enjoying each other's company.  

A loud thump scattered the birds, and we saw a Flicker who had just run into a window, flopping around on the cold bricks. It didn't look good.  Don went out and held the bird in his warm hands.  Before long, the Flicker raised his head and life seemed to surge back into him.  Then he lifted off and flew away.  Woodpeckers seem to have a pretty good recovery from such mishaps; their heads must be tough considering all the jackhammering they do.

Don and I have both held a number of birds over the years, cheering them on, and when they make a recovery, we feel like we've gained a friend.  We'll keep watching the sky, and the next time we see a Flicker, we won't be surprised if he tips his wings in our direction.