One of the few bright spots in the otherwise dark and colorless purgatory that is the month of February is the presence of birds at the feeders out on the back porch of the Big House here at the northern end of southern nowhere. Were it not for the pleasure of watching the juncos, redbirds, goldfinches, and other feathered fauna, the dreary, wet, cold, windy weather that clamps a clammy hand over the clay-covering kudzu around about would be just about enough to send the Colonel howling 'round insanity's curve. I have mentioned my loathe for the despicable month before, have I not?
To paraphrase John's account of Nathaniel's retort to Philip, "Can anything good come out of February?"
The Colonel thinks not.
Rather, there is much to the thankfully short month to recommend it for placement at the bottom of any ordering of calendar counts. Go ahead, name a more vile month. The Colonel will wait...
...and wait...
...still waiting...
It's settled then. February is hereby declared the scourge of humanity.
Yeah, the Colonel heard some of you say, "What about Valentine's Day?" To which the Colonel will gently remind the three fair and gentle readers of this post, if you wait until one day a year to tell that significant other how significant the other is, the other ain't. Nor are you.
Back to ornithology (the study of birds for you Mississippi State and LSU grads).
For the past three scourges of humanity the gangs of juncos, redbirds, and goldfinches that frequented the Colonel's feeders have been joined by a solitary mourning dove. While the Colonel is not skilled nor keen-eyed enough to determine the gender of this lone Zenaida carolinensis, it has been dubbed a she and given the name: Zena. It would stretch the Colonel's already uber-elastic credibility were he to maintain for your benefit that this particular bird is the same dove that has appeared each winter. So the Colonel will only entertain that belief for his own benefit, as there yet remains just barely enough grey matter lying fallow in the recesses of his brain-housing group to maintain delusions.
Told you that there wasn't much to recommend February.
1 comment:
Hello Colonel,
I did that for the first 4 years that I lived in my small condo but not for the last 2 years because the "gray furry-butt tree-rats" have managed to destroy all my feeders.
I do miss seeing all my feathered beauties...Cardinials, Blue Jays, Sparrows, Finches[all types] a flock of about 25 to 30 doves, 3 different Woodpeckers.
I've even had a red-tail hawk, a falcon and even an owl come cruising under the trees past the feeders. My 'Best Bud' witnessed one of these 3 preditors catch a dove on the wing right outside the dinning room window.
I have had large and small rabbits feeding on the rye grass under the feeders shortly after dawn or very close to dusk.
I couldn't sleep one night so I was up early enough to see a young deer feeding on the rye grass. By the time I got out the camera that young deer had left for areas that remain unknown.
Yea-ya, I do miss my bird feeders.
Miss Em
Austell, Ga.
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