The muted brightness of the tulips in the twilight has an almost ethereal glow.
They look like they are from another world.
Nature and Birds in Southern Ontario, Canada
The muted brightness of the tulips in the twilight has an almost ethereal glow.
They look like they are from another world.
The man in the yellow helmet in the cherry picker has arrived. I saw him at the neighbours down the street. At first I thought he was working on the hydro lines, but then he started cutting the tree.
I thought, at first, that he was just giving it a trim, but then he kept on going. “He’s going to cut the whole tree down,” my husband said. “No, he can’t do that!” I said.
But then he did. Branch by branch. It was too horrible to watch. It was like something living was being killed. Which it was.
The squirrel was jerking back and forth uncontrollably in the grass. I was really worried about it. Had it got caught in some wire or a line?
I had thrown a thin branch into the grass from the garden and the squirrel was grabbing it and twirling under it and at one point it jumped straight up, at least half a foot, into the air.
And then I understood. It wasn’t caught or hurt. It was having fun.
The starlings are skittish and neurotic, acting like they are part of The Three Stooges; while the common grackle lands far away from the suet and seed, and confidently saunters over like he is inspecting the place and giving it a once over.
The white-throated sparrow made an unexpected visit to the bird feeder today. He appeared with his jaunty striped racing helmet on, looking like he was ready for the Tour de France.
The red-winged blackbirds were noisily playing a game of hide and seek in the bushes by the bay; while the Hungarians were having a friendly contest with the Poles, of ‘who-can-catch-the-most-fish?’ on the other side.