Ethel Merman has apparently been reincarnated as a bird that lives on the air-conditioner outside my bedroom window.
“You’ll be CHEEP! You’ll be CHEEP! Gonna have the whole world on a CHEEP!!”
James Blunt isn’t dead yet, but maybe he astro-travels to inhabit our neighbourhood rooster whose crow sounds uncannily like JB singing the line “You’re beautiful”.
You think you’ve got it bad?
There is a species of large blackbird in South Texas that’s called a “grackle.” One of them took up residence in the palm tree outside the front door of the house. It apparently took a great dislike to my grandfather, and it would attack him whenever he left the house, swooping down to grab a bit of his hair and yank it. The bird bothered no one else. It would sit in that tree all day, lying in wait for my grandfather and begin to attack as soon as he stepped outside.
Grandma and I found this hilarious. When grandpa went to get the paper, we would line up at the window to watch the show. He tried sneaking out. He bought a big hat and sunglasses to disguise himself. Nothing worked. He would run back to the house swearing and waving his arms to try to ward off the dive-bombings. He did not find it as funny as grandma and I did. He refused to leave the house and took to lurking behind the curtains, peering out to try to spot his foe, muttering horrible threats beneath his breath.
So, I was surprised one morning to see him make a dash out the door, holding an umbrella above his head, bolting for the car. He came back with a pellet pistol. He unwrapped it silently, loaded it, and marched out the front door, murder in his eyes. He ran back in a few minutes later, literally hopping with glee.
“I got him! I got the little bastard! I shot his pecker off!” He meant its beak, but he was too excited to articulate it correctly. Grandma and I screamed with laughter. Grandpa scowled at us, and said with exquisite dignity that he now intended to have his coffee on the patio like a civilized man.
I got the following link from my sister. It shows the learning ability that birds can have. Quite fascinating really.
I just wonder if the store manager keeps the area under the nest roped off, in case of bird doo.
It appears my email to the local cops has resulted in the dog across the street being kept inside at night. That thing barked at seemingly every car and probably the wind. I actually looked up the toxicity of sleeping pills on the net (they’re apparently very safe). It was either the cops do something, or I get driven to finding out how to get rat poison.
I live in the center of a large city, but we have so many trees that there are birds everywhere. And I like it that way, but there are three that I don’t care much for.
A woodpecker that keeps banging the concrete wall outside my bedroom. How did woodpecker survive this far been so stupid?
A bunch of pigeons that poop all over our rooftop terrace.
And the least annoying is the one who decided to move with us. Really. They call these “dumb birds” here, and by golly they are! It is a male, and he found some white pebbles in a pot outside my bedroom window and must have decided they were eggs and has been nesting ever since. Oh well.
I am probably the only city dweller that can spend hours birdwatching. You can see some of our visitors here:
Beautiful!
Oh man, those stories are too funny.
When I was hiking around Yosemite a couple years ago, I had found a nice rock to sit on to eat a sandwich and have some water. There were some Stellar’s jays flying around the area, seemingly making a sport out of landing on a certain branch, then swooping down in between some rocks, out the back, and back up to the branch. One of them then decided to change course and make a grab for my sandwich, while it was in my hand. He managed to get a piece, too.