![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
backyard birding
Jun. 17th, 2007 02:39 pmI think I've been reading ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
finding_neo's and gryphons_lair's journals for too long - I've started noticing the birds in my backyard. There's a pine tree (or some sort of spruce-y looking thing) directly behind my living room sliding-glass door and for the past couple of weeks when I sit on the sofa to be online, I've noticed little yellow birds alighting on its branches. I don't know if they're canaries or finches, or what - they're bright yellow, with black checker-type markings on their wings and back. I think one is male and one is female - the slightly larger one is very yellow and chiruppy, and the smaller one is a duller yellow and frequently perches near the bigger one.
There's also a demented robin who lives somewhere around here. I think I may have mentioned him before - he likes to peck shiny things (I guess his own reflection? which says a lot about his self-esteem issues, considering the velocity and ferocity behind his pecking once he gets going). I first found out about him a couple of months ago, when a neighbor put a stuffed cat on top of their van while they were at home, as a scarecrow to discourage Pecky Shecky from drilling even more paint off the hood. Not long after, one morning I was awakened by a loud, milititant tap-tap-tap and got up to see who in the hell was knocking at the back door. Sylvester raced out at about the same time and ran to the door, scaring off Shecky. Shecky hasn't returned, but he does hop in the grass back there every so often - I think he's afraid to approach, knowing the cat is in here, bored, hanging out near the door.
And ... now I feel like I'm narrating an "Itchy and Scratchy" cartoon. It's hard to make people appreciate the annoyance that Shecky is. When my sister was visiting, we'd be on the sofa and he'd be hopping around outside. "Look!" I'd point. "There's that robin I was telling you about. He pecks at everything."
She'd turn and look, then look at me like maybe she'd better start exercising that healthcare Power of Attorney thing I gave her a few years ago for just-in-case. "O-kay," she'd say, slowly. Or, "Yes, it's a robin." Or - even worse for the aged - "Yes, you already told me about him like five times."
finding_neo's and gryphons_lair's journals for too long - I've started noticing the birds in my backyard. There's a pine tree (or some sort of spruce-y looking thing) directly behind my living room sliding-glass door and for the past couple of weeks when I sit on the sofa to be online, I've noticed little yellow birds alighting on its branches. I don't know if they're canaries or finches, or what - they're bright yellow, with black checker-type markings on their wings and back. I think one is male and one is female - the slightly larger one is very yellow and chiruppy, and the smaller one is a duller yellow and frequently perches near the bigger one.There's also a demented robin who lives somewhere around here. I think I may have mentioned him before - he likes to peck shiny things (I guess his own reflection? which says a lot about his self-esteem issues, considering the velocity and ferocity behind his pecking once he gets going). I first found out about him a couple of months ago, when a neighbor put a stuffed cat on top of their van while they were at home, as a scarecrow to discourage Pecky Shecky from drilling even more paint off the hood. Not long after, one morning I was awakened by a loud, milititant tap-tap-tap and got up to see who in the hell was knocking at the back door. Sylvester raced out at about the same time and ran to the door, scaring off Shecky. Shecky hasn't returned, but he does hop in the grass back there every so often - I think he's afraid to approach, knowing the cat is in here, bored, hanging out near the door.
And ... now I feel like I'm narrating an "Itchy and Scratchy" cartoon. It's hard to make people appreciate the annoyance that Shecky is. When my sister was visiting, we'd be on the sofa and he'd be hopping around outside. "Look!" I'd point. "There's that robin I was telling you about. He pecks at everything."
She'd turn and look, then look at me like maybe she'd better start exercising that healthcare Power of Attorney thing I gave her a few years ago for just-in-case. "O-kay," she'd say, slowly. Or, "Yes, it's a robin." Or - even worse for the aged - "Yes, you already told me about him like five times."
