Birding in the Backyard

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An evergreen bushy thing insists on draping its back end over our fence, but we’re cool with it because it’s pretty much covered in birds—now.

I say “now” because when we first moved here six years ago, we thought it was strange that we weren’t awakened at three in the morning by tweets and chirps. Sure, our yard was pretty much an awkward, rolling incline of grass and not much more, but there were plants and things in other parts of the neighborhood, and we thought we’d see lots of birds fluttering about.

But no—not so much. Just the crows pecking at our garbage bins and leaving treats in the trees outside our house. I’ll explain: It may be rumored, in our neighborhood, that a bra that may have once allegedly belonged to me, and that I could no longer wear or give away, was found by the crows in the garbage and lovingly draped in a tree outside my house. It may be rumored that I walked past that tree winter, spring, summer, and fall—and never noticed it—until one terrifying day, when I spotted it, took it down, and threw it away for good—but only after every child in the neighborhood had already seen it.

In any case, that was the most action we’d ever seen from the birds in our neighborhood. (That was the most action they’d ever seen, either.) Then, Nate planted a tropical paradise in our backyard, and guess what? All kinds of winged things flock to our island—and I kind of like them. Not the crows. They’re plotting a takeover of my underwear drawer, but lots of little tufts of other birds zoom in and out—and I can identify a few:

–The hummingbird I’ve named Petrified: This one flits about the flowers near the hot tub—and when we’re sitting in the hot tub—it looks at us out of the corner of its eye. We look big and terrifyingly relaxed. It’s too hungry to stop eating, but it does eye us with a special look of horror.

–A blue jay I’ve named Ominous: For some reason, the blue jays in the Pacific Northwest look eerie to me. When they land in the yard, they appear to do so with purpose—like they have a message for me—a warning—one I must heed before it mutates into a sea-bear or something. (Fun fact: the bear that wanders about the neighborhood is still around. Neighbors have called the Fish and Wildlife Department, and the response is thus: If it’s not limping or hurt, just let it roam. Don’t approach it. It’ll leave, eventually—and don’t feed it—or throw bras in the garbage.)

–Some reddish-brown birds that I’ve named Gin and Tonic. They’re the happiest birds I’ve ever seen—and my favorites. I think they like us. Or, I could be completely wrong, and they’re terrified. Maybe they come to the big evergreen thing in the yard to prove to each other that “the apparitions” do exist—and they move! And Gin and Tonic are trying to warn Petrified, the hummingbird, by singing and flapping their wings, but Petrified is having none of that. Petrified is getting all that sweet, sweet nectar, with its long, long beak, which I realize now is pointed and sharp—and stabby looking. And maybe Petrified is getting the last laugh because that look in the eye is maybe not one of horror, but one of pure cunning. Perhaps Petrified is dreaming of all that’s possible with just a few jabs of the beak to the heart. Well, Petrified, don’t ask for my heart. It’s already yours, you lovely beast!

Your Turn: Do you like to identify birds or other animals where you live? Which ones have you seen?

35 thoughts on “Birding in the Backyard

  1. Your bra story is hilarious. 😁 I do like to identify birds and used to have bird feeders when I had a yard. I still get some, especially hummingbirds visiting my hanging plants. Can you imagine how terrified we would be if hummingbirds were 10x their size? With that beak, forget Jurassic Park!

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  2. This was a delightful read, as usual, CK. We have several hummingbirds, bluejays, little blue birds, and mourning doves about. I haven’t named any of them. Once I looked out the window from my desk and saw a lovely orange butterfly land on a bush. Then one of the brown birds swooped down and ate it.
    I’m glad I hadn’t named the butterfly.

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  3. We have plenty of birds where we live, and they usually have plenty to say. Crows, of course, hummingbirds, blue jays, chickadees, gold finches, cardinals, robins, and all manner of sparrows. There a whippoorwill we hear at night desperate to find a mate. Apparently he doesn’t have much luck with the ladies.

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  4. I’m not much of a birdie. I know it’s a popular pastime.
    I do like waking to the sound of birds singing and chirping.
    I hope never to find discarded underwear in a nearby tree 😆

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  5. Ha, those crows are naughty, aren’t they? They’re probably plotting against you as I type! As for birds, there’s an empty lot right behind my home, and there are tons of birds. Most of all, kiskadees, southern lapwings, swallows, the ever present pigeons, doves, and some owls that make themselves known in the early hours of the morning! I guess there are more, but those are the ones I can identify! 🙂

    Now go hide your underwear before the crows come for it all! 😉

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  6. You remind me so much of my sister, Cecilia – I love the way you get so much fun out of dramatizing every day events! Lots and lots of birds here, I love the grey hornbill that looks like a pterodactyl, and the golden oriole. But I think my absolute favourite is the hoopoe. Such a funny and striking bird!

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    1. Oh, no! It’s sad that so many animals are displaced or living in areas where they shouldn’t be–we have a bear in our neighborhood that really shouldn’t be here at all. All the new developments in the area have made it difficult for some of the animals around here to live and thrive.

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  7. BraVo.. a bra-gnificent post about bra-gical birds and the bra-dorable crows too 🙂. Loved reading it. In our garden we get to see Barbets, Grey hornbill, Kingfisher, Seven sisters, Parrots and sometimes an eagle descending for eggs of other birds. Once I saw a turquoise blue egg shell in the grass too.

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