Threw a couple of stale doughnuts out in the yard early this morning figuring fox, coyote, raccoon or possum would take advantage. Surprisingly, the first on the scene for breakfast al fresco was a small murder of crows. Each snagged a pastry and headed for the trees. (Oh, the big thing is a leftover Halloween pumpkin, which the crows raided for seeds and everyone else is enjoying the rest of the fruit.)
Sure, the office is in a beautiful setting. Almost peaceful with its trees and wildflowers. Within the canopy, however, different life-and-death dramas play out every day. Here, a red-tailed hawk, harangued by bluejays and mockingbirds, seeks a moment’s respite in a tree with a squirrel he’d caught for lunch.
The rest did not last long. The smaller birds screamed and even bashed him a time or two and he took off for another hiding spot. Alas, that last flight cost him. As he landed, his squirrel slipped from his talons and crashed through the branches.
A a second hawk, who followed the action and withstood an assault by other small birds, cashed in on the lost lunch.
… or, the many moods of Blueberry. Blueberry the indigo bunting loves to strut and sing for the ladies. Here he his putting on his song and dance in the driveway on a gray morning. Taken 19 May 2017.
Standoff at the Hummingbird Saloon this morning.
(Don’t worry, the little guy came back later and got his drink.)
Bluebird seems to staring out over the south valley from the branch of a bare hickory tree.
Little finch makes the snowflakes fly as she feeds on the sumac.
The weather here in the Mid-South has been so gloomy. Fog and more fog and rain on top of rain. Not that we don’t need the rain, but at some point, you just want to believe the sun will show its face again. Yesterday was that day. The sun shone for a few hours, enough time to bring out the birds, get the rock knockers calling to their mates and to do some long overdue car washing.
A purple finch and his mate contrast with the fog-muted fall colors of the Ouachita Mountain ridge behind them. Taken this morning.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving, the sun returned, warming the afternoon air and giving hawks reason to scout for supper in the almost-empty farm fields flanking U.S. 70. This hawk, with his wind-ruffled feathers, seemed to be the only life for miles around.