Aren’t gulls the most gormless-looking creatures? They give Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster a run for his money.
No chickadees today, I’m afraid: it seems they’re no more enamoured of this weather than I. As I shuffled along Bucketwheel, camera clutched to my chest, brolly perched on my head, I could hear the birds, but I couldn’t see them. They were all in the bushes, hiding from the rain.
But what’s this? — a single, bedraggled song sparrow pokes up his head —
A hapless song sparrow, getting rained upon (Moberly Rd. & Bucketwheel).
— and is recorded for posterity. Burn.
Pleasant day, today. (You can use the preceding statement to calibrate your sarcasm detector.)
Heavy snow over Heather Civic Marina
Birds spotted: lots of crows, lots of gulls, and one very sorry, very snowy, northern flicker, dipping into the feeder. I think the gulls had pinched all the suet, by then; poor flicker only got seeds. There was also plenty of song sparrow traffic, if you can call a dozen visits by the same sparrow “plenty.” (I know it’s always the same bird because of its toenails: some are white; some are black. Funny chap.)
Red berries on Moberly Road
Tomorrow, I’m going to look for chickadees along Bucketwheel, if the snow’s subsided. If not, I’m going to shelter miserably in the doorway, and hope a robin chances by.