I had an extra crow round, today: Mr. Crow showed up for his afternoon snack with not one but TWO crowlings in tow! I grabbed my camera, hoping to snag a family portrait, but no sooner had I raised my lens than it slipped through my fingers and struck me right on that sensitive bit along the breastbone, causing me to emit a sound not unlike a hungry crowlet, myself. Both young birds made a break for it, at that point. Their father, it seems, is made of sterner stuff: he barely spared me a glance. He didn’t even twitch his wings. Apparently, he’s used to my antics, and not impressed.
My efforts at starling photography met with no greater success. While my new starling visitor is a frequent feeder — I noticed him at least fifteen times, today — he’s not much of a poser. He arrives, grabs a few seeds, digs up my planter, and flies away. Nobody likes a picture of a bird with its face in the dirt, or half-hidden by the feeder, which leaves me two main opportunities to snap him: immediately upon arrival, and just prior to departure. Of course, the first of these windows is short: he doesn’t tarry long, before attacking the seed. And the second window — well, he dawdles a bit on the railing, which is all very well…only, he’s pointing the wrong way, isn’t he? — looking out over the courtyard, with his tail in my face. Anyone who’s seen a starling knows the tail’s not the pretty bit. It’s just a regular old brown tail. What a snore.
So, ehh, here are my pictures, for today:
A promo shot for “The Birds,” perhaps?
My starling visitor, with his feet cut off. But, hey, this is proof he exists!
And one from my morning walk:
Some leaves.
