At some point, the lush, green landscape around me turned cold and barren. The mercury now hovers in the single digits. A frosty white coating buries the trunk of every tree. The wind yawns and howls right through the single pane windows of this 1880s Victorian. With no fireplace to warm my tootsies by, I turn to memories of summer…of warm winds and nesting birds gone by.
In this state of involuntary hibernation, I’m comforted by this brief clip of an Eastern Bluebird pair that nested in my backyard this summer. Not a whole lot happens here, but it shows two brilliant blue birds with a mouthful of bugs intent on feeding their young against a backdrop of summer sound.
Enjoy your moment of Zen.
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Could almost feel the first warmth of spring. Permit me to share a very fine translation of Basho:-
“Skylark on a moor-
sweet song
of non-attachment.”
Seasonality – why temperate birding is so special.
Lovely, Stuart.
Thank you.
I love the distant Carolina wren in the background.
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