What kind is that?
Just beyond the large windows in the living room, we have an array of bird feeders. We moved into multiple dispensers of sunflower seeds some seasons back; still waiting for a thank you note from our feathered neighbours. Anyhow, whenever we look outside, there’s always something to remind us of our important role in the local food chain. Feathered, furred, whatever; seeds are available and popular.
Today, when I spotted eight (note that I actually counted them) unfamiliar birds, I was driven to find an identifying label. And so, having missed my chance to take photos (due to a “flat” battery) before the visitors all flocked off, I had to deliver a meaningful description to she who records such things. I might have managed, or not. What matters is that I tried.
Because, friends, that’s not a positive change in my lifestyle. I risk joining the ranks of “the birders”. No, I’m not shopping (yet) for better binoculars, or a funky hat, but the risk is real. I mean, I don’t have a compelling reason not to, if you discount my daltonism and declining visual acuity. Birds are our friends.
I’m not supposed to reference dinosaurs, every time. Nor should I threaten to add roast dove to our table menu. They’re our friends. And the drain on our finances, what with the need to buy huge sacks of (inedible) seeds, is just our way of supporting the agricultural industry in another part of our huge nation. Why, without us, there would be less need for trains (or trucks) to transport feed stock from the Prairies. The national economy might falter. I’m doing my part for unity!
