out my window

In a pine tree

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

In a pine tree,
A few yards from my window sill,
A brilliant blue jay is springing up and down, up and down,
On a branch.
I laugh, as I see him abandon himself
To entire delight, for he knows as well as I do
That the branch will not break.
~ James Wright

Sweet bird you are

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

It’s been dry and windy, and this morning I noticed finches hopping around in the nearly-empty bird bath. As I filled the watering can I use to replenish the bath, I noticed other finches perched on the dogs’ water bowl that sits on the deck.

The birds were thirsty.

Soon after I went back inside, birds arrived. These finches (House and Gold), juncos, chickadees, doves, flickers, and magpies all came to drink at the community pool. In fact, so many birds came to visit throughout the day that I just cleaned and refilled the bath again.

Lucky me. And I mean that.

When you have seen one ant, one bird, one tree, you have not seen them all.
~ E. O. Wilson

Channeling my inner squirrel

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

This guy was at the feeder that hangs right outside our living room window.  When I sat to watch him liberate shelled peanuts from the cylinder, he immediately copped an attitude. He was furious that I was interfering with his efforts, and most certainly the chatter aimed at me was profane.

This squirrel’s head about popped off.

I admired him so much. Check out his body language. At first glance, you’d think the guy was chill, focused and absolutely motionless. Except. Note the blurred tail.

That is my goal for today as I tackle my revisions: to work with intense focus while also keeping in constant motion.

Profile in courage

/ Tracy Abell

The feeder was full first thing this morning. We had Blue Jays, American Magpies, and a Northern Flicker or two trying to get at the peanuts. However, this scrub jay fussed at them and mostly kept everyone away.

Then, after all that effort, this jay would fly from the feeder to the nearby shrubs to hide the peanuts. I mean, no subterfuge whatsoever. A direct line from feeder to shrubs. I waited for the others to start raiding the peanut cache, but I never saw anyone try it.

Perhaps the other birds took note for later in the season when they’ll need food. If so, I envy them their memories. I had trouble locating my coffee cup this morning.

Twofer Tuesday: Northern Flicker edition

/ Tracy Abell

These guys are so noisy in the spring,
banging on the rain gutters and downspouts
to advertise their territories.

Today? Nothing that I can hear,
although they might be talkin’ smack to each other
out there on the wire.

Probably not.
Birds strike me as being less dickish than humans.

Creepy inflatables, blowin’ in the wind

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

It’s October 1st which means it’s time for our neighbors across the street to display their creepy inflatables. So far, there’s no sign of the coked-out cat from last year.

But, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s out there right now. It’s very windy and the inflatables aren’t standing at attention. When I passed them earlier, I thought that long, cylindrical inflatable was somehow attached to the jack o’ lantern.

However, from this angle, it looks more like a pumpkin-head dracula doing a face-plant.

Or push-ups.

Or maybe he dropped a contact. Whatever his deal, I’m just glad he’s not staring in my window.

Sunflowers and Hailstones

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

These cheery flowers typically raise their faces to the sky, seeking out the sun’s warm embrace.

Here, they hang their heads and avert their gazes from the hail raining down on them.

Fortunately, the storm has already passed through and they’ll live to smile another day.

Chekhov on a Bunny Monday

/ Tracy Abell

I’m not sure what put the light in this rabbit’s eye*, but I know where mine came from: today’s writing session was great fun. Even though I’m writing a first draft and, therefore, not overly hung up on language, I put down some good stuff. And that makes me very happy. Even after reading the following:

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.
~ Anton Chekhov

Much of what I wrote today is more tell than show, but I still had a damned good time.

*okay, it was probably the sun