I love bird watching.
It started when I was little. Maybe four or five, watching for bluejays in my back yard. I’d collect the fallen, broken, hatched eggs. Shells the color of pale blue-green with brownish gray specs. I remember when finding them, I was so excited. They were like a little surprise… quietly waiting for me to happen upon them.
My grandparents house was in a huge community in Ft Lauderdale. Their backyard flanked a neighborhood pond where ducks would snap up bread from tiny fingers. I vaguely remember one time being scared and falling backward into a huge cactus. Having clusters of needles painfully pulled out of my skin. Maybe not the best memory, but I don’t blame my clumsiness on the ducks.
I have a photo taken by my Aunt Sally, of me feeding pelicans at the pier. I’m wearing a red hooded jacket, blue jeans, and my navy blue tennis shoes that looks similar to Keds… I remember not wanting to hold the slimy fish, it was a slightly cold and windy day. Not many people were out. But a perfect moment was captured. I’m standing on a bench, below, huge beaks open, waiting for the drop, prehistoric dinosaur birds. Growing up in Florida was really special.
There was that time at the beach during the summer break. I think I was nine or ten. Eating lunch on a sandy blanket, when swoooooosh, a seagull snatched the Dorito that was on its way to someone’s mouth. I don’t think it was mine, but I do remember the dive bomber and his cawing friends, crowded nearby waiting for another opportunity. I really miss the sound of seagulls. I definitely took my beach days for granted.
When Josh and I lived in Tampa, we had a family of cardinals that were very well fed. My little red birds. We shared many years together. And over those years, my bird parents brought their littles to my back porch railing, for sunflower seeds. They all knew my schedule, my voice, the sound of my car, Lizzy and my pugs… they weren’t afraid to get close to me. I remember when one of the first littles flew directly at my shoulder, the sound of his little wings… I was so sad when we moved away. They really helped to fulfill my Disney Princess vibes.
Our first days in Texas, we kept hearing a strange noise. Chirps that vaguely seemed robotic. We learned that that was one of the many sounds the Grackle makes. Grackles are straight thugs. We saw a grackle fight, where one grackle was holding another grackle in a puddle along the curb, trying to physically drown his opponent. A whole crew of grackles watched on… like a wrestling match or MMA fight. Grackles, I like them!
There’s a really pretty park here in Austin. It transports me back to a time where I’m strolling through one of Monet’s gardens. Peafowl scream, I mean roam free. It’s actually comically serene, the juxtaposition. Peacocks also know how beautiful they are and will most definitely stop and pose for many photos. True professionals.
Springtime in Texas… at night the mocking bird songs will wake you up. Our first house, we had a very noisy spring. Autumn and winter we now hear owls hootie hooting after midnight. I really like when they perch on the roof line. Their sounds travel down the fireplace flue. I love wise old owls. They also have great legs! 🙂
And I can’t forget the time I first heard a road runner… I ran outside, to watch him actually cross the road. I said BEEPBEEP to him and had a little laugh.
Another sound that I know is my humming birds. At my current house I have a pretty vine that blooms in the spring. The humming birds and bees love the flowers. Mornings out with the pugs in the spring and summer are always a pretty sight, it’s that natural energy, a good way to begin the day.
And back to the red birds, my cardinals. At every house I seem to befriend a new group of little red birds.
My bird watching weirdness, is thankfully supported by the family. I have one of those bird feeders with a camera, so I can watch all the action and see all the little feathered friends that make their way to my back yard. There are so many titmouse cuties that are slowing becoming almost as familiar like my cardinals. They hear me when I’m outside and sit on the branches waiting for me to refill with seeds. <3
But this longwinded winding walk down my memory lane isn’t just to idly ramble on about my love of birds… it’s an homage to birds. Birds should be wild and free to spread their wings, which take them onward and upward to adventures near and far.
My little fledgling will one day fly the nest. Thinking about that gives me all the feels.
I know one day she’ll be moving onward. There’s college on the horizon, a boyfriend in the wings, a world of opportunity and experiences that are as vast and wide as the sky above. Knowing this gives me hope. I’m excited for her. I don’t want to clip my daughter’s wings. I want to be the mom that watches her fledgling fly and paint the sky as she soars through life.
I don’t know when, but I know that time is coming.
