Sparrows and Berries

I know, I know — I post WAY too many song sparrows. But I like them, and they’re terribly obliging, when it comes to posing for pictures.

It was funny, though: Mother and I were out just before noon, and we couldn’t find anything with wings (well, unless you count a crow that flapped so close to our heads we felt a mild breeze). We were standing about listening for chickadees, and I was telling her about that hissing thing — you know, that pssh-pssh-pssh-pssh-pssh you do with your lips, and suddenly you’re mobbed with small passerines (in theory, anyway) — and as I was talking, a song sparrow ran past us, and into the underbrush.

“See, though, it doesn’t really work,” I said. “Pssh-pssh-pssh-pssh — hey!” And wouldn’t you know it: several sparrows appeared, as though by magic, rising up from the bushes and into the trees. I hissed again, and even MORE appeared. And here are some of them:

A moment later, it reached out and pecked the berries.

A moment later, it reached out and pecked the berries.

Check it out...two in the bush!

Check it out…two in the bush!

For trash birds, they're awfully cute.

For trash birds, they’re awfully cute.

Aww.  Look at that, all puffed up.

Aww. Look at that, all puffed up.

Birdie tuchis!

Birdie tuchis!

I’m going back, later. Perhaps I’ll return with a brand new bird. Hope springs eternal!

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