Saturday

8 April 2017

— spring grass pushing up through the backyard moss

Good Morning All, 

I hung those CDs in front of my south-facing windows because in certain lights the birds have been bumping into the windows. The CDs which revolve slightly because of the heat from the radiator have helped some. Their rainbow sheen also helps, I think.

Still, the other day, I found a small green finch dead in a woodbox in the west corner of the patio. I often get small flocks of yellow finches, but not often the green finches, and then only a couple at a time. 

This one had probably met its end against the glass. It lay on its side and looked delicately asleep. It was beautiful, with its greenish-yellow wing feathers bordered by black feathers on both sides. It took me a couple of days, but eventually, yesterday, I dug a small grave for it along the back fence by the bird feeder. 

Normally, when I go out onto the back patio  any birds around take off and generally do not return until I go back inside. That was the case yesterday. Not a bird in sight as I carefully carried the green finch on my gardening trowel, put it in the ground, and said, as Steve Irwin probably would have, “There you go, little buddy,” and then covered it over.

When I looked up, six birds were sitting motionless in the apple tree branches not more than four feet above me. They were not doves, not sparrows, not blue tits, not robins. They were six green finches, sitting absolutely still until I pushed myself up off my knee and they flew off towards the west.

I’m not going to say a word here, other than quite a remarkable coincidence.

Go Well and Stay Well,

Bhekaron