As I walked into our driveway yesterday evening, a catbird (I think—at any rate, a medium size gray bird), rushed over, perched very close to me, and proceeded to sound off at great length—scolding, it sounded like. Very emphatic. Lawrence had seen a baby bird in the bushes that morning, with parent birds obviously distressed, but I saw no baby now (though it could have been there, hidden). She chattered on and on, very volubly and obviously meaning to convey something—what? “Your CATS ARE MONSTERS. Are you not ashamed to house such villainous creatures?” or “BE VERY AFRAID, wicked human with evil designs on my baby—my husband is on the warpath!” (her mate was skulking behind a tree but peering out from time to time). She simply wouldn’t stop. On and on and on, just like my boss when she’s enlarging on the benefits of public health policy. Finally I had to tell her that I was very sorry, but I couldn’t understand, and it was time I was moving along, and I retreated into the garage, closing the door behind me.
I have never seen a bird come so close and talk so insistently before!
This morning, we saw one of them perched on a branch above the driveway, singing the usual song, nothing special. Whatever the urgent matter was, it had passed. Perhaps it was the baby after all, and it had either been eaten or succeeded in getting to a safe place.
Be grateful you haven’t been subjected to terrifying dive-bombing attacks:
It’s terrifyin’, I tell you.
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OOooh, Allan, you found my blog! Which I keep forgetting about. And shall, shall do better in the future. Following your splendid example!
Only, lord, all the other distractions..
And then, well, WORK, don’t you know..
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