Today was beautiful. The temps were in the low 70s but the sun was out full-force. I sat on the deck waiting for Jilda to put on her walking shoes. The black sweatshirt heated up quickly. There wasn't much human activity so my awareness fell on birdsongs.
Sitting there with eyes closed, I heard owls flirting. Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoooo, ho, hooooo. It's mate hooted back. Off in the distance, I hear crows. Then from the north, I heard the sound of a bird winging its way toward the garden. I thought for a long time trying to think of what the bird sounded like. Then it hit me. It sounded like the cardboard I clipped onto the forks of my bicycle. For a while, the cardboard flapping against the spokes sounded like a motorbike – or to my 12-year-old-mind it did.
I heard redbirds, orioles, wrens, and finches. There were other birdsongs I could not identify.
When Jilda came out for the walk I was still listening.
On the first lap, we walked up the road in front of our house and I noticed that the edge of the road was covered in male pine flowers washed down by recent rains.
I've seen them a million times (maybe that's an exaggeration) but it was like I saw them for the first time.
The curls and bends looked like modern-art to me. I wasn't sure how it would look, but I took a picture anyhow.
I'm trying to make up my mind as to whether it was a hit or miss.
Sitting there with eyes closed, I heard owls flirting. Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoooo, ho, hooooo. It's mate hooted back. Off in the distance, I hear crows. Then from the north, I heard the sound of a bird winging its way toward the garden. I thought for a long time trying to think of what the bird sounded like. Then it hit me. It sounded like the cardboard I clipped onto the forks of my bicycle. For a while, the cardboard flapping against the spokes sounded like a motorbike – or to my 12-year-old-mind it did.
I heard redbirds, orioles, wrens, and finches. There were other birdsongs I could not identify.
When Jilda came out for the walk I was still listening.
On the first lap, we walked up the road in front of our house and I noticed that the edge of the road was covered in male pine flowers washed down by recent rains.
I've seen them a million times (maybe that's an exaggeration) but it was like I saw them for the first time.
The curls and bends looked like modern-art to me. I wasn't sure how it would look, but I took a picture anyhow.
I'm trying to make up my mind as to whether it was a hit or miss.
Decidely a hit. I love the intricacy of it.
ReplyDeleteAt first sight, I thought they were some type of caterpillars... There's definitely a pattern ... I love listening to birds but I never tried with my eyes closed.
ReplyDeleteHugs, Julia
For me there is nothing hit or miss about nature. It is all wonderfully made. Taking the time to enjoy it all is something not many do, but I'm glad you do. I enjoy your descriptions and pictures of all the beauty around you.
ReplyDeleteAdd some color and it would look like a Jackson Pollack painting that I never understand. We used playing cards or baseball cards in our spokes.
ReplyDeleteThis made me think about how it almost time for those darn worms to start hanging from trees around here!!!
ReplyDeleteLisa
When I first saw the picture I thought it was some sort of larvae nest. How nice to sit and quietly listen to the birds. And the cardboard (baseball cards were best) in the bicycle spokes made us feel so "cool".
ReplyDeleteHit or miss, I would miss, trust me I can't hit anything, not the point of the post but still..............
ReplyDeleteBirds are just so pretty to listen to and I can distinguish between a Cardinal and a blue Jay but I don’t know the Baltimore Oriole or others. Your picture does look like an abstract..in fact, when I saw it from my list, I thought you took a black and white picture of an abstract painting...so this is excellent
ReplyDeleteCornell Lab of Ornithology has a great website called All About Birds which allows you to listen to the songs as well as the calls (which can vary quite a bit) of birds. I thoroughly enjoy it.
ReplyDelete