Showing posts with label American robin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American robin. Show all posts

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Cleanup Crew




Robins arrived in a flock at first light along with a few bluebirds and cedar waxwings. 

They stormed the birdbath...





and descended on the dogwood trees...





and seemed disappointed to find that every last berry had already been stripped.





Undeterred, they spread out over the frosty ground, bobbing their heads down into the grass with the rhythm of an oil well. 

On each upswing, a bright red berry lodged between their beaks, then slid down their throats in one swift swallow. 

When every last berry had been vacuumed up, they flew south, leaving as quickly as they came. 



They left behind a good reminder for the New Year: 

The early bird gets the berry.



Seek and you will find.








Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Morning Praise




On this bright new morning, a robin greets the sun from her favorite fencepost.




Two bucks, most likely two year old twins...




now spar, preparing to be rivals. 




A juvenile purple finch perches on the supplejack,




and a tufted titmouse is silhouetted against an orange sky.

They all give praise to their Maker, doing what He created them to do.

Years ago, we used to sing a children's song in church, 

one that I believe holds true for God's children of any age:


The birds upon the treetops sing their song;
The angels chant their chorus all day long;
The flowers in the garden blend their hue,
So why shouldn't I, why shouldn't you praise Him, too?




If you'd like to see a very cute video of a little girl singing this,

click here.




Linking with Little Things Thursday,
and




Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Goldfinch Rescue


Goldfinches have been sharing their airspace with robins lately,
and I mistakenly surmised in my last post that all the robins were already south of us.
But yesterday, from a hilltop tree stand near here, Don watched thousands pass over him, and today, there were hundreds more.




























It may have been all that commotion that caused this small goldfinch to crash into the windows the other day.  When I first saw her, she was on the ground, belly up and breathing hard.  I scooped her up and turned her over in my hand; her tiny claws clung to my fingers, which seemed like a good sign.  As I stroked her feathers gently, and sang about her Heavenly Father's care, she rallied, so I moved her to a nearby twig.

She seemed grateful for the attention, and in return, stayed around and let me take a few pictures. Then, just before dark, she flew away, hopefully to live happily ever after with a good story to pass on to her grandchildren.







For those of you interested in textures, I used the following from Leslie Nicole
Rabelias at 50%, Sepia at 22%, and ancien at 100%.



Sunday, November 27, 2011

Grateful Robins



The thermometer took a sharp downward turn today,

and the robins must have known about it ahead of time, because by yesterday,

the last of the migrating flocks that had been passing through were nowhere to be seen.
































On Thanksgiving morning our back yard was alive with their motion.

A few of them drank from the birdbaths, but most of them

preferred the puddles that had formed in the tarp covering the woodpile.
































They drank deeply, lifting their heads in gratitude after each swallow.

It seemed so appropriate for the day - so appropriate for every day.

And so, watching them, I lifted my heart in gratitude, too.







kimklassencafe


11/30/11  Oops!  
There are still some robins around.
For an update, click here.



Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving




























We all live off His generous bounty,

gift after gift after gift.

John 1:16



Robins are on the move.  Last weekend, from his vantage point in a tree stand in the woods, Don watched wave after wave of them pass low overhead, with red breasts lit by the morning sun, their mass darkening the sky.

This week, on a gray morning walk through the cedars, I heard the sound before I saw them, thousands of twitters massed into a grand symphony.  I stopped to watch and listen, and while Barley gnawed on a bone, the music enveloped me.

For this, and a million other gifts, we are truly thankful.




Linking with Texture Tuesday,

and