Sparrow fledgling seen out my window. July 8, 2025
Wordless Wednesday: fledgling edition
out my window
Wordless Wednesday: timeline cleanse
House Finches. January 15, 2024
Wild gift
I’ve been scarce around here, largely due to overwhelm on a global and personal level. Today got off to a good start and then quickly went south with the news that my son was in a (heightened) health crisis. A while later, I was on the phone with my spouse for the umpteenth time, updating him on our son’s condition, when I glanced out the window.
Such a gorgeous fox, possibly the same one who visited my neighbor in June? Either way, I was delighted by the sighting. I quickly grabbed the nearby camera and captured this one image through the deck railing before it jumped on the back fence and went to the other side. Foxes must have incredibly keen senses because this one immediately knew my camera and I were at the closed window.
A brief interaction, but that fox lifted my spirits immensely. For that, I’m grateful.
Take good care, everyone.
Update on H.R. 9495 + busted concrete
Good news, people! Here’s the update on last week’s post Defend Dissent: oppose H.R. 9495:
Last night, the Republicans tried to ram the legislation through via suspension of the rules (which, if I’m understanding correctly, was related to them not having a quorum) and that required 2/3 of the vote. THEY FAILED! By 9 votes. That’s the good news. The bad news is that 52 Democrats voted YES on enabling the crushing of dissent. Shameful. Here’s the list of those Dems:
If your Rep voted YES, please call/email to shame them for that! Many of these Dems spent the election cycle wringing their hands over impending threats to democracy and then voted for fascism. If your Rep voted NO, please call/email to thank them for that vote! (Go here for full tally of votes.) Right after the vote, I called mine (Brittany Pettersen)–whom I’d emailed plus called three times on this issue in an attempt to get her on the record–and left a message thanking her for doing the right thing. She’s a horrible, AIPAC-devoted representative, but I give credit where it’s due. I was fully prepared for her to vote in favor of the legislation and believe she must’ve heard from many constituents on this.
In case you’re interested in more background on this legislation, here’s Rep Lloyd Doggett on the House floor last night pointing out the cynicism of attaching this harmful legislation to legitimate legislation that would provide tax relief to U.S. citizens who’d been held hostage in other countries. By the way, Doggett led the charge on defeating this bill and we owe him a huge debt.
This is a win, but this legislation will be back and we must rally to defeat it every time they bring it up. Solidarity!
And now for domestic news: we’re finally replacing our driveway and walkways that are the original concrete from when this house was built in 1965.
No lie, we had the ugliest, most pitted driveway in the neighborhood. We didn’t mind, except for the jolt of pain each time the snow shovel got caught in a crack. We’ve lived with it for many years and now will have joyful snow-shoveling experiences! Bonus? I don’t feel too guilty about adding more to the landfill since we got nearly 60 years of use out of the driveway and walkways.
Who knew concrete could bring such happiness?
Wordless Wednesday: out my window
Thankful Thursday: hawk edition
Earlier today, movement outside the window caught my eye. I turned and saw:
Emma running along the fence + a Red-tailed Hawk sitting on the wire + a squirrel jumping into the maple tree right next to the wire + another Red-tailed Hawk landing in that maple tree.
I sent up a prayer for the squirrel as I ran for the camera in the other room. By the time I returned, all I could see were the two hawks. The squirrel must’ve escaped and Emma was elsewhere in the yard, oblivious to having chased that squirrel right toward the hawks.
I photographed the one on the wire through the kitchen window and captured the hawk in the tree by sneakily pushing my big lens through the mini-blinds in Zippy’s office. I was grateful they didn’t startle at my movements and even more grateful they hung around as long as they did. Just moments after getting photos of the tree-sitter, the hawk took off from the wire and the other followed.
I receive these gifts.
Twofer Tuesday: out my window
Today I’m grateful for all the activity that’s viewable from my windows. Just a while ago, I paused my laundry duties to watch house wrens at the nesting box hanging outside the window. Nothing like a little avian activity to lighten the drudgery of dealing with dirty sheets and towels.
Last week, I photographed this youngster eating the nut munch we provide for neighborhood squirrels. I smiled the entire time.
A few minutes later, I was gifted the sighting of this magpie and its colorful plumage. It wasn’t until looking at the photos that I realized a tail feather is damaged. That imperfection doesn’t detract from its beauty, but instead adds to its mystique.
It’s currently 95 degrees and I’m hunkered down inside, grateful for the swamp cooler keeping the house cool-ish and for the windows that allow glimpses of our wildlife visitors.
When magpies sound the alarm, heed their calls
This morning as I did my daily “bed stretches,” it finally registered in my brain that the magpies were being unusually loud and persistent outside my window. I got up and looked out.
A fox!
I ran to the other end of the house to grab the camera from the dining room table, updating Zippy on the way. When we got back to the window, the magpies were still chastising the fox and I started taking photos through our screen. Unfortunately, the shutter clicks disturbed the fox (s/he turned to look directly at me), so I stopped.
But I texted my neighbor to let him know he had a visitor. He quietly stepped out onto his deck and the fox ran for the back fence where it leapt up onto the same section where a bobcat had sat nearly two years ago, and then disappeared on the other side. A beautiful gift from the universe! And a very, very nice way to begin the day.
Note to self: when you hear incessant magpie calls, investigate!
Sunday Confessional: on feeling powerless
I haven’t been here much lately because reality feels so very hard. Don’t think anyone would argue with that sentiment, but I do know that many would argue against giving up. And they’re right. Despite the fact that these are incredibly dark days in which we’re facing multiple crises funded and enabled by the powerful elite–people who live insulated lives and truly do not care what the rest of us think and want–that doesn’t mean we can drop out of the struggle. There’s so much to fight for–people and planet.
So, today I’m dipping back in on a small scale. Here is a wee mouse that was hanging out below one of our bird feeders.
January 16, 2024
It was brutally cold that day and this little mouse was out doing what needed doing in order to survive. They weren’t giving up without a fight.
I won’t, either.
Snowy aftermath
Yesterday my plan to spend the day doing revisions was upended by a snowstorm that began at about 10:00 in the morning and continued for twelve hours. By the time it ended, we’d received at least 17 inches of snow (it was HEAVY so there was compression). This was the view out the kitchen window right after sunrise this morning.
And here’s the patio where we’d sat just days earlier when the temperatures were in the 50s.
Yesterday’s shoveling was an exercise in futility as the snow fell faster than we could clear it. The neighbors and I never had more than a minute or two of feeling a sense of accomplishment before the pavement was covered again and we had to start all over.
A neighbor from farther up the hill made a crucial error when driving up our street on his way home: he stopped to allow a struggling vehicle to get past on the barely plowed street and then was unable to get going again. His vehicle slid to the gutter and my immediate neighbors and I spent a long time trying to dig them out, but the road got too slick beneath the tires and there was no traction. He ended up abandoning the vehicle overnight.
Despite waking up a bit stiff and tired from all the shoveling, I couldn’t resist the lure of the open space. Late this morning, I gathered my snowshoes and poles, and walked up to the trailhead. After strapping on the snowshoes, I veered off the path where others had already walked, thinking I wanted my own adventure. Um, no. The deep snow made each step a major chore and I knew I’d be exhausted within minutes. I instead followed others’ footprints, huffing and puffing as I gained elevation beneath the blue-blue-blue sky. I did my best to ignore the nasty brown cloud hovering above Denver and the surrounding area. Instead, I smiled at the yucca spines sticking up from the snow, marveled at the really deep drifts, and listened to chickadees and juncos. There were deer tracks and ski tracks, and I saw one person carrying a snowboard. Up on the ridgeline, a group of younger people were sledding down the hill.
On the way down, I chose to take advantage of gravity and break trail rather than follow the established trail. Plumes of snow rose and fell with each step, making me feel strong and powerful.
And after getting home and eating some delicious avocado toast, I finally got to work on revisions. Yay!
Twofer Tuesday: feathered friends
Birds are keeping me going during these dark days. Even more than usual, I’m intentionally watching and listening for them with the knowledge that such interactions ground me and bring a moment of peace. And joy.
Today as Zippy, Emma, and I took a slow walk in the neighborhood, we heard a loud call. A hawk was perched in a tree above the street. I quickly pulled up my Merlin app in hopes it would help me identify whether it was a Cooper’s Hawk or Sharp-shinned Hawk. Unfortunately, the hawk went silent. But we were gifted with an up-close sighting as the raptor flew directly above our heads (and no, I couldn’t tell whether the tail feathers were rounded or flat) and then circled back around before landing in another tree. A gift to us.
Here’s another bird that brought me joy recently. A White-breasted Nuthatch exploring the tree trunk outside my window. I was thrilled to get a decent photo because these guys are always on the move.
January 13, 2024
And here’s a familiar face: male House Finch, of which we see many every single day. But every sighting brings a smile.
January 13, 2024
Once again, birds for the win.
Non-subversive squirrel
You can’t be suspicious of a tree,
or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion
or challenge the ideology of a violet.
~ Hal Borland
Out my window. January 11, 2024
Ending the year on a positive note
I deliberately went in search of natural inspiration and rejuvenation this afternoon as I wanted to end the year on a positive note. And during that time watching and listening to the birds and other wildlife around my home, the grief and anxiety fell away. I was at peace. Here’s a sampling of what I witnessed:
Scrub Jay
American Robin
White-crowned Sparrow (immature)
House Finch
Disgruntled Bunny (and yes, that’s a great name for a band!)
Dark-eyed Junco (and no, that’s not their mess)
House Finch
Goldfinch
Squirrel!
And lastly, Emma Jean-Jean, keeping an eye on things as I photographed yard visitors
I also saw Northern Flickers, a woodpecker, a Red-breasted Nuthatch, Black-capped Chickadee, Mourning Doves, and magpies. It was a bird buffet!
But that’s not all I did to soothe my soul. I also hoop-danced for 10 minutes today which brought my hoop-dancing total for the year to exactly 28 hours! In 2021, I hooped for 24 hours and in 2022 I hooped for just over 27 hours. So, this year is my new record. Woot woot!
Happy New Year to all! May the coming year bring more justice and peace around the globe.
Nothing but birds
These photos were all taken after our first snowstorm on October 29th. We saw lots of different species that day and here’s a sampling of who came to visit the feeders and bath.
Black-billed Magpie
Dark-eyed Junco
House Finch
Northern Flicker
Mourning Dove
And one last Dark-eyed Junco, because how could I resist this delightfully round bird?
Wishing everyone a bird-rich day.
Wordless Wednesday: evening sky
Wordless Wednesday: I-25
Thankful Thursday: House Wrens
I just spent a whole bunch of time at my laundry room window with my camera, watching the House Wren family. In mid-April, I sent a wish into the universe for wrens to nest in the box Zippy put up beneath the deck (a nest box he found while cleaning out his mother’s home) and then in early June I noted wrens had moved into the nesting box!
For the past week or so, there’s been a clamor coming from that box. A frenzied wall of sound that prompted me to tell Zippy “Sounds like 16 babies in there!” The noise level goes WAY up when a parent arrives with food, causing many spontaneous smiles on our faces. But it wasn’t until today that I went down with my camera and, oh my goodness, what fun! Not only fun, but educational.
First off, all those sounds appear to come from just two babies. (I never saw more than two beaks poking out.)
Second, those wren parents work their butts off.
Not only does a parent bring food every food minutes, but they also remove poop after each feeding. (That was my guess after watching for a while, but I had no idea how it was done.) Per Wikipedia, the nestling produces a fecal sac within seconds of being fed, which the parent removes. The below image isn’t great (click to enlarge), but it does show the sac in the parent’s beak.
However, the poop saga doesn’t end there! If the nestling doesn’t produce a fecal sac, the parent will prod around the little one’s hind end (no, that’s not the correct anatomical term) to stimulate excretion. Which explains the next image.
After the nestling(s) took the insect, the adult waited a bit and then dove into the nesting box. This only happened the one time, so I’m guessing the little ones were doing a pretty good job of pooping right after eating. Probably not fun having Mom up in their business.
At one point, I was baffled by all the sounds I was hearing because neither nestling was visible at the hole. Who was so agitated? And where was the sound coming from? I stared and stared at that hole in the box. Then movement caught my eye and I noticed an adult with a moth in its beak on a timber below the nesting box. It made no sense, but it was clearly the one singing the song because I could see their throat move. Weird, I thought, singing with its mouth full. What’s up with that? And the dancing?
When I described what I’d seen, Zippy suggested that maybe the adult was trying to entice the youngsters to leave the nest. That made perfect sense to me, but a quick online search didn’t turn up any info to support or deny that theory. Either way, it was so delightful watching that tiny bird dance around with an enormous moth in its beak, all the while singing a beautiful song.
That was the most enjoyable laundry room experience I’ve ever had! Thank you, universe, for granting my wish. This wren family is balm for my soul.
Twofer Tuesday: bunny edition
We are a rabbit-rich neighborhood this year. It’s typical for us to see at least one rabbit per yard as we walk our two-mile loop. Fortunately, Emma has gotten blasé about their presence and doesn’t go bonkers when she sees them. Often, she doesn’t notice them but Zippy and I have fun saying, “There’s one there and another over there and two babies hiding by the bush.”
But we don’t have to take a walk or even leave the house in order to see them. There are always (and I mean always) bunnies in our front yard.
Dining on the front lawn. May 19, 2023
The elders are wise and stay in the front where Emma can’t get to them. But last week we spotted one of the youngsters in the fenced backyard which I photographed through the window.
Zippy went out to open the gate so it could go back in front, but it went farther into the back. We kept Emma inside and checked to make sure the little bunny was gone before letting her out again.
Silly bunny. Why go into a space where a dog frequently roams? And why leave the grassy front for the mulch-covered back? And while we’re at it, do you rabbits really believe flattening your ears against your head makes you invisible?
Doesn’t matter. Bunnies are always welcome here.
Twofer Tuesday: stillness
Learning how to be still, to really be still and let life happen – that stillness becomes a radiance. ~ Morgan Freeman
In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you. ~ Deepak Chopra
Out my window. July 30, 2021
Cleansing breath
My heart is heavy after watching today’s session of Montana’s state House vote to censure trans Representative Zooey Zephyr. The vote was along party lines, 68-32. She is now banned from the House floor and not allowed to speak on legislation, and will only be allowed to vote remotely. Zephyr’s speech in her defense was powerful and brought me to tears. She’s on the right side of history. Those who silence the voices of those speaking on behalf of the oppressed? Nasty, small-minded fascists.
*cleansing breath*
So here is a Bushtit photographed in September of 2021: 
This darling wee bird was accompanied by a whole bunch of other Bushtits that day and I post its photo in honor of the lone Bushtit that briefly visited the feeder as I hoop-danced this morning. It’s exceedingly rare for a Bushtit to travel alone, and I’m hoping it’s only because the rest of the gang was nearby taking cover from the rain.
I receive the gift of this bird’s beautiful presence and now share it with you.
Sleep tight, hold tight
I’m happy to say we received much-needed moisture in the last 48 hours! Yesterday, I woke to about 4 inches of snow on the railing and it continued to lightly snow for several hours more. After it’d stopped, I glanced out the kitchen window and saw a squirrel in the plum bushes behind the fence which is a common sight. But when I looked again a few minutes later, that squirrel was in the same position. Could it be asleep?
Indeed it was. There were several squirrels eating from the two nut munch cylinders we hang on the back fence and they’d been busy as the snow fell, and I wondered if this one was just tuckered out from all the food foraging in the cold. While finches and towhees hopped around the nearby branches, the squirrel slightly opened her eyes while keeping her head down on the branch, and then appeared to go back to sleep.
It wasn’t until other squirrels began chasing each other on top of the fence that this one abandoned its rest. If this squirrel is the same that brazenly ate peanuts from the bird feeder this morning as I watched from just feet away, I’d say the powernap did her good.
Friday Haiku – open mic
swiveling for sound
lucky rabbit ears hear all
hold your secrets close
July 3, 2022
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Twofer Tuesday: towhee edition
I love me some Spotted Towhees which frequently hang out in our backyard. We often hear them scrabbling through the mulch and leaves as they jump forward and scratch backward with both feet, and over the last two summers they nested in the yard which meant we also got to hear the juveniles making their raspy cries for their parents. Spotted Towhees have a high entertainment value.
These images were taken within days of each other last October and might possibly be the same bird. The only thing I know for sure is that they are not-great images! But what better way to celebrate Twofer Tuesday than with two poor photos of the same subject?
This first one is woefully out of focus but we still get the the slightly punk rock attitude with those ruffled head feathers and red eye.
The second photo gives us a lovely view of the towhee’s back along with a glimpse of its underside. You know, to help with identification. HA. Mostly, it’s a nice shot of our deteriorating timbers and weed-choked pavers.
My mother-in-law once told Zippy that Spotted Towhees were her favorite bird (but then thanks to her memory issues, she promptly forgot that statement.) No matter, I remember and every time I see one, I think of Alice. Sweet-sweet-teeeeaaa.
Etiquette question
You’ve probably noticed how when someone says hello or smiles at you, your automatic reaction is to say hello or smile back. ~ Shawn Achor
January 3, 2023
Yes, but then there are situations in which that other being stares and flicks its tail. How does a tail-less individual reciprocate?
The more things change
I enjoy looking at photos from the same date in earlier years, just to see what I was about to at the time. Apparently, I’m very much a creature of habit.
Here’s what I was thinking about and photographing exactly one year ago today:
And here’s my photographic muse on January 21, 2020:
Clearly, I’ve got robins on the brain. And what about January 21, 2021? Well, I didn’t take any photos that day. However, tomorrow it’ll be exactly two years since I photographed this Cooper’s Hawk which, by the way, is staring quite intently in the direction of the bird bath.
How about you . . . do you check out your photos from earlier years? And if so, do you have a more diverse repertoire than me?
Tracy Abell 