Friday, January 27, 2012

Cedar Waxwings

I'm in our spare room.  That's where the exercise bike is.  Half an hour at least every day - unless I just really can't (which happens when I'm sick or about once a month otherwise).  I've finished exercizing, but I'm reading a really weird, wacky, deep, deep book that I've only just been ready to read.  And I'm really ready.  And I'm lying on the bed reading.  The furnace has been making lots of noises since my friend, Kevin, pointed them out to me.  And suddenly I hear a really strange noise - like a popping sound.  My attention moves swiftly from the weird, wacky book to what I think is the wierd, wacky furnace.  But it isn't the furnace at all.  It's coming from somewhere else.

I look out the window of the small spare room to see if it's raining or hailing.  But it isn't.  The thing I haven't noticed while being ensconced in my book is the utter racket of the Cedar Waxwings in the backyard.  There are literally hundreds of them swarming around the mountain ash tree in our backyard - and moving on to the neighbour's (and they are not tidy eaters, let me tell you, the snow under the tree is now littered with the leftover leaves that never fell off last fall).  And the popping sound is the few that are landing on the roof above the spare room - for a rest, but also to eat the snow - they are having a drink - as they also do on the neighbours garage roof. 

It's magical.  It's a surprise from nature.  A gift to whoever chooses to notice it.  And they are lovely birds.  My "National Geographic Field Guide to North American Birds" states that Cedar Waxwings are "Highly gregarious in migration and winter."

Yes ... yes they are! (they do NOT pose well for pictures)

The photos really don't do the whole experience much justice - there was SO much activity and chatter.

(It's a little like a scene from Hitchcock's "The Birds" - minus the pecking people's eyes out bit - which, oddly enough, I watched on Netflix a couple of weeks ago.)

1 comment:

  1. When we lived in Bon Accord, the Cedar Waxwings would get drunk on our Mountain Ash berries every year at this time, and would crash into our living room window. We were always absolutely fascinated by them, every year. I almost wish we had a Mountain Ash tree here, as well, so we could see them again.


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