"Bird on a Wire" was the name of a movie I saw way back in the 1990's. I may have been one of the few people who actually paid for a ticket to see it. It really wasn't a very good movie. Goldie Hawn was in it. That's all I remember about it. So why am I remembering this mediocre movie, and writing about it twenty years later?
Well, "Bird on a Wire" is my new theme for August. Or maybe it should be "Birds on a Wire," or maybe even "Lots of Birds on Wires." When we sit on the porch these August evenings, we are watching the birds as they are beginning to do their autumn flocking. You know they pair up with their sweeties in the spring time, and the couples raise one or two nests full of babies. But when autumn and migration time approaches, they part from their mates (I guess) and join up with huge flocks to safely accomplish their migrations south.
So these flocks make a habit of resting on the electric wires that run between poles beside the creek. I mean there are many, many birds strung like beads on a necklace resting and watching the evening sun go down. Not only do they rest, but they seem to enjoy an evening snack just like we do as we watch TV of an evening. Every few minutes or so a few birds will flutter down onto the yard or over into the field across the creek. I guess they spot some insect or seed or tidbit to snack upon.
And they seem to enjoy basking in the evening sunlight. And they do a lot of picking at their feathers and evening grooming. But, most of all, they visit with one another. There is just a very loud, on-going chatter of conversation. We sometimes speculate just what the birds are saying to one another at the end of a busy day, while waiting on dark and bedtime.
" How are things going, finding plenty to eat?"
"Oh, yal, been spending a lot of time at those bird feeders over on Wildflower Lane."
"I gave up on those. Do you think anyone ever mentioned to those squirrels that those are called BIRD FEEDERS?"
" I know, they are a pain. How are the kids? Have they all left the nest?"
"Yeah, finally. That little one of ours wanted to hang around forever. I was about ready to
introduce him to that black cat that lives under that house on Pleasant Way."
" Oh, you wouldn't do that. Boy, I really watch out for that cat."
"How you been feeling? I know you had your digestion all messed up with eating berries."
"I'm better. I was pooping purple for a long time there."
Oh, we could speculate on and on. It got funnier and funnier. But, all of a sudden, all two hundred birds suddenly took off like they were in a terrible panic. The electric lines were left swaying quite violently. We were so surprised and wondering what had triggered their sudden flight, when Don looked up and said, " Well, look at that."
There came swooping down across our yard a huge red tailed hawk. And he sailed right into
the thick leaves of the tree next door. He was so hidden that we couldn't tell whether he had
a small bird clutched in his talons. Although we do occasionally find a pile of feathers left in our yard. It is sad, but it is just a food chain fact of life.
When Don went out to the garage this morning to pick up the morning paper, he heard a squawking sound from outside. He looked out the window, and there were two hawks in our driveway. I hope they don't manage to permanently frighten away the "Birds on the Wires."
We do so enjoy watching their evening ritual.
Well, "Bird on a Wire" is my new theme for August. Or maybe it should be "Birds on a Wire," or maybe even "Lots of Birds on Wires." When we sit on the porch these August evenings, we are watching the birds as they are beginning to do their autumn flocking. You know they pair up with their sweeties in the spring time, and the couples raise one or two nests full of babies. But when autumn and migration time approaches, they part from their mates (I guess) and join up with huge flocks to safely accomplish their migrations south.
So these flocks make a habit of resting on the electric wires that run between poles beside the creek. I mean there are many, many birds strung like beads on a necklace resting and watching the evening sun go down. Not only do they rest, but they seem to enjoy an evening snack just like we do as we watch TV of an evening. Every few minutes or so a few birds will flutter down onto the yard or over into the field across the creek. I guess they spot some insect or seed or tidbit to snack upon.
And they seem to enjoy basking in the evening sunlight. And they do a lot of picking at their feathers and evening grooming. But, most of all, they visit with one another. There is just a very loud, on-going chatter of conversation. We sometimes speculate just what the birds are saying to one another at the end of a busy day, while waiting on dark and bedtime.
" How are things going, finding plenty to eat?"
"Oh, yal, been spending a lot of time at those bird feeders over on Wildflower Lane."
"I gave up on those. Do you think anyone ever mentioned to those squirrels that those are called BIRD FEEDERS?"
" I know, they are a pain. How are the kids? Have they all left the nest?"
"Yeah, finally. That little one of ours wanted to hang around forever. I was about ready to
introduce him to that black cat that lives under that house on Pleasant Way."
" Oh, you wouldn't do that. Boy, I really watch out for that cat."
"How you been feeling? I know you had your digestion all messed up with eating berries."
"I'm better. I was pooping purple for a long time there."
Oh, we could speculate on and on. It got funnier and funnier. But, all of a sudden, all two hundred birds suddenly took off like they were in a terrible panic. The electric lines were left swaying quite violently. We were so surprised and wondering what had triggered their sudden flight, when Don looked up and said, " Well, look at that."
There came swooping down across our yard a huge red tailed hawk. And he sailed right into
the thick leaves of the tree next door. He was so hidden that we couldn't tell whether he had
a small bird clutched in his talons. Although we do occasionally find a pile of feathers left in our yard. It is sad, but it is just a food chain fact of life.
When Don went out to the garage this morning to pick up the morning paper, he heard a squawking sound from outside. He looked out the window, and there were two hawks in our driveway. I hope they don't manage to permanently frighten away the "Birds on the Wires."
We do so enjoy watching their evening ritual.
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