The Concord River woke this week to a world of white–a little snow and birds. Actually, a lot of snow and one bird. But they were both white.
Look closely. Do you see what I see?
A swan visited, taking my breath away and giving the ducks something to gawk at. He/she was spectacular in his/her splendor and overall swany-ness.
Originally, he/she did a fly-by and I watched in amazement. The ducks were less amazed and more freaked out, sending out their guttural quacks in fear that the large, white bird was some kind of mutant eagle.
The swan turned around and landed with the gracefulness of a, well, a swan, sending the ducks for cover. Eventually, everyone they relaxed and gave the swan his/her courtly position.
Swany, how I love ya!!
He/she ate a bit of corn then left with nary a thank you. Swans might be beautiful but they need to work on the manners thing.
You might remember tonguey from my last post; the duck with the forever sticking out tongue. She’s gone but beaky took her place (and, sadly, beaky is gone too). I know, I know, the names lack imagination, (and I write books for a living). Okay, not much of a living but that’s not the point. Beaky was a hen with a broken bottom beak. I had to feed her dough balls since she couldn’t scoop the corn.
As I wrote, beaky is gone. Perhaps the immature bald eagle that’s been scouting the area took a hankering to a duck with only one bill. RIP beaky.
Back to the white, fluffy stuff that fell on Saturday. Seems it took the ducks by surprise. They had been treating the river like their own Roman bath, complete with the fighting and sex. Climate change tends to do that to waterfowl. However, when the snow, sleet, and cold temperatures came in, they weren’t very happy. All they could do was hunker down and dream of bushels of corn.
The snow didn’t stick around long, though. Fifty degree days have followed, giving the ducks back their freedom to frolic and play like horny teenagers.
The other day, I heard a Black-capped chickadee sing it’s mating call. Even the songbirds seem to assume it’s time to feather the nests.
Let’s stay on the songbird topic for a few moments. Look at the picture below and tell me how many species you can identify? Go ahead and try. I’ll wait.
Ready for the answer? Okay, but you shouldn’t have given up so easily. So, starting on the left we have a male Old World sparrow, female Northern cardinal, male chipping sparrow, male house finch, then male and female slate-colored juncos. Here’s some larger shots.
And, thrown in for good measure:
White-throated sparrow
I’m almost out of photos. Oh wait, here’s one.
She’s free for Kindle users. (hint, hint, hint). And I love reviews.
Fine, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It is my blog, after all, and if I want to shamelessly plug my book, I will. However, I’ll give you with a wonderful photo to make up for my transgression.
No, they’re not here but I’m hopeful.
That’s it for tonight from the Concord River. Tomorrow I’m having surgery so I need to go drink and eat before the clock strikes midnight. I’ll keep you posted. Blessed be :}
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