Flying Leaves and Falling Wings

A skiff of snow fell overnight, and in the morning, the dogwood tree in the front yard, so glorious just days before, wore its leaves in patches like a mangy dog. A bluebird flew in and landed on one of the thin branches. 

Another joined it, then another, followed by waxwings and robins, as if the fallen leaves had sprouted wings overnight and were back, standing in as replacements. It isn't a bad trade-off. For the leaves, their first flight is their last, but the birds keep flying. They animate the tree in a way leaves never can.

The few dogwood berries that remained were strewn on the ground. Taking stock of the inventory, the birds hopped to the ground to bolt down their breakfast. One bluebird peered under a leaf, located a neon red berry and swallowed it whole in one gulp. Within a few minutes, the flock had cleared the yard of berries and moved on. 

Not all of the birds were so fortunate. A purple finch crashed into our sliding glass door and laid on the deck like a fallen leaf before struggling to its feet. Listing to one side, it perched wobbly, hanging on to life with a tenacity known to wild things. Hoping to shelter it from the frigid breeze, I took an old towel outside, shaping it with a cavity for a windbreak, and gingerly set the bird inside.

The finch rested there, unresponsive for some time, an uneaten sunflower seed still in its beak. 

After a while, it dropped the seed, lifted its head, and surveyed the surroundings with a renewed recognition. It seemed to remember, for the first time in a while, that it could fly. 

With a swift motion, it picked up the seed again, hopped to the top of the towel, and lifted off. One fallen leaf had taken flight.

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.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Saturday's Critters

Winter Hues

The skies are gray, the winds biting,

  and the leafless landscape, so far, is devoid of snow...

 but there are always the bluebirds...

  and cardinals...

and tufted titmice.

What more could we want?





Note about the photos:
The three titmice on the branch are actually one bird in motion.
My camera caught the bird in the right and left positions in the first burst.
He may have heard me say "Take Two".
In any case, the little bird was obliging enough to come back to the same branch
for another takeoff, so I combined the three in photoshop.

As always, you can click on any image to enlarge it.



Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

All These Gifts

Yesterday was balmy, and checking on my absent neighbor's dogs was a good excuse to get outside.  

The sun warmed my face as I sat on a stump and stroked Corby's hair, while high above us vultures traced lazy circles in the sky. When a gust of wind sent leaves crashing to the ground, pint-sized Jazz barked at them. At home, bluebirds made an appearance...

 

...and 2 Carolina Wrens fluttered around the dried sunflower that was hanging under the eves. I imagine they were not as interested in a food source as a future nesting site, since they've been checking out a basket on the porch, too.

In the afternoon, there was laughter in the kitchen as a friend and I peeled apples, trying to peel one in a long spiraling strip, like Mom used to do with her sisters. Later, the aroma of apple pie filled the room as we enjoyed dinner with friends.

Warm sun, dog kisses, friends around the table--an ordinary day? Not exactly. But then really, is there any such thing?