This year I have been watching birds. Not like a hobby or an obsession. It's because of that Robin, the one that has a nest in the fir tree that hulks over my trailer.
The other morning my friend Pat and I were chatting in the secret garden when the Robin flew around the corner of my trailer and briefly landed on Pat's head. She then skipped up to the top of a rusty metal plant stand. I saw a flash of fur on the ground, out of the corner of my left eye. The Robin flew down after it. It was a squirrel! She chased the squirrel out of the yard, under the gate, while she flew over the gate to continue the chase. Pat and I looked at each other, mouths in an "O" shape, as if to say: "Did ya see that?"
I had noticed that the top of the fence, which was a squirrel freeway before, had become the sole transit for the Robin, on her way to the nest after having found two worms for her chicks. Always the same routine. She lands on the fence with a Thunk, looks around, cuts the corner and skips, hops and scoots down the fence line. Waits for a few seconds, then leaps up and flies out of sight. This has been going on all spring long. Her chicks must weigh 90 pounds by now.
I understand why the squirrels no longer use the fence for a road. I had hoped that they had relocated to a better neighborhood. I don't like squirrels. They eat the birdseed that I put out and chase the birds away.
The Robin and I are buddies now. She is my secret ally in the war against the squirrels. I day dream about slighshots and wire snares. She acts.
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
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Plane after plane after plane after plane going over our houses, starting at dusk and not stopping all night long. The scream of the one plane hasn't even faded before the next one goes over my house. I called NAS Whidbey just now (note time) and gee, I apparently am not being patriotic for wanting to be able to sleep at night. This is going to be going on until at least Monday, possibly longer. I have my TV on, earplugs in and still....the roaring continues in my ears.
In october, Joint chief of staff chairman, General Pace will be replaced with a naval admiral. Wanna bet that all that practice is for Bushbaby's next foreign exploit misadventure?
Oh wait, I'm sorry. It's just the "sound of freedom."
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