Bird is still the word. And it might just drive me to the nuthatch.
When last we spoke, a little bird was making a noisy nuisance of itself at my bedroom window. Over the last few days my new best friend has become bolder, allowing a better and more frequent view.
Definitely not a wren. Too big. Not the right markings.
When I say bolder noisy nuisance, I mean the dude really wants to fight the bird reflected in the glass. Anytime the sun is up … cloudy days … sunshiny days … curtain open … curtain closed …
But the first rule of fight club is you don’t talk about fight club. Or so I’ve heard.
I located the Audubon Guide we have in the house, first confirming the birds around the feeder were – as astutely noted by a friend studying my online pics – indeed juncos.
A couple crows, which are about six or eight times the size of a junco, have been encroaching upon their territory today.
I was thinking nuthatch for the bird-formerly-known-as-maybe-a-wren, and there is a brown nuthatch that’s similar. But pictured next to the brown nuthatch is what I believe to be the true identity of the creature that continues to fly into the window next to me over and over and over.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you … the brown creeper.
Between the guidebook and some googling, the brown creeper it is.
I always feel like … somebody’s watching me …
I always feel like … a creeper’s creeping on me …
Oy vey.
Earlier this week, in an effort to encourage said creeper to creep somewhere else in the yard … it occurred to me I could trim the juniper bush that has been serving as a bird trampoline. First I needed to do a curbside grocery pickup, coincidentally at the Giant Eagle, better known to us as The Big Bird.
Then it was 28 deg F and sunny with almost no wind, so I went for a walk.
Living in a place where the weather changes every fifteen minutes, it was overcast when I finished. By then MacGyver had volunteered to do the trimming. Awesome. Easier for me to photograph the process.
As it was nearly sundown, the real test came the next day.
Eh, didn’t really do much.
Sigh.
I don’t know if the avian population in my vicinity heard we made a movie about the patron saint of birds or what.
I mean, I like birds. Their beauty. Their songs. But, um, I could use some sleep, peace, and quiet. You know, some social distancing from the window.
So God created the great creatures of the sea and every living thing with which the water teems and that moves about in it, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. ~Genesis 1:21
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ~Matthew 6:26
