Early birds. No, really...

I went out to feed and water before I went to work at the sub.  This is just a bit before 6 am.  I open the door of the chicken house, and poof, out come the flock o' chickens, flapping, clucking, little taps of toenails on cement as they run to be first to the food. 

I put the feed out for them, and see the little... Chickadees? Sparrows? zipping to the trees nearby.  After the chickens finish, they swoop by and check for leftovers.  (I am surprised there ARE leftovers, the chickens try and get every last crumb...)

And then I hear "Sqwaunk, sqwaunk", nearly over head.  I look up to see a small group of Canada Geese, just going like thunder, honking and flapping to wherever the next water hole or patch of lawn grass is. 

Then, up from me, I hear crunching and skittering.  Our neighbors have turkeys as temporary visitors in their trees.  I watch as they launch off a branch, then glide to the ground.  Then they look about, see me, and frantically call to warn the others, "the crazy lady is out again!"  I watch as they all get down and do a sort of bowing walk, ostensibly so I can't see them.  It reminds me of Groucho Marx doing his cigar waving walk. 

I go back to the house, and see Martins checking out our bird houses.  We have several, and the Martins seem to be choosing juuuuuust the right one.  Flit in, flit out, run off someone else, flit by, check out the next house, repeat.  Pretty soon, we'll see one bird in, and another doing food runs, then the babies.  That's always an interesting time, the parents sometimes get a bit irked with us for being outside.  Oh, well.

I leave, the sun getting a peak over the pass, but not quite ready for full sunny-ness.  The crows are hopping by the oak tree, looking for bugs, and the occasional acorn.  They don't appreciate me when I go to the car, and caw loudly, from the safety of a branch high up... 

I take off, and see vultures up ahead.  Most people I know, don't think too much of vultures.  I don't exactly think they are lovely sorts myself, but I have always thought they have a strange dignity in the way they carry themselves.  Every move seems to be prefaced by a slow deliberation, as if they want to make absolutely sure they are going to plot every outcome before they act.  The ones I see are in a nearby field, I think checking out a small creature.  They look up as I go past, and one seems to hop up on the fence.  I don't think I would even call it flying... And he stares as I go by, almost seeming to look as if he's expecting me to show a reservation for coming by there.  I pass, and it flies over the car, to get a good look at me as I leave. 

I am seeing more birds as the season changes, I saw my first hummingbird a day or so ago.  I am planting a bird and bee garden soon, so hopefully, I will be able to tell you of more birdy escapades...

J is for, well, Jay.

I like watching birds.  I especially like watching them at campgrounds.  They seem to figure out so quickly that food is for the taking, if they are quick, or if the humans are dumb enough to leave things out for them. (Even if they didn't mean if for said bird.)

I guess that jays are, in general, some what of a thieving bunch, I looked up "Camp Robber Bird", and this came up, proving that several species of bird can be profiled...

So, this couple leave out a loaf of bread in a plastic bag.  Husband and I tell them they should not leave it unattended.  They laugh it off, saying that it's too heavy for the birds to mess with.  Husband snorts, I roll my eyes, and the couple go off on a walk around the campground.

We watch as a rather large crow, and a jay land within seconds.  The jay pecks at the bag.  I start to rise, and Husband, with a mischievous look, says, "Let 'em.  Remember, it's too heavy for the birds to mess with."  The jay had nearly pecked a hole in the plastic, and the crow was watching, and tugging on the tied end of the loaf.

The crow soon tired of tugging, and started flapping his wings furiously, lifting the loaf to a 45 degree angle, and dragging it across the table.  Just as it was about to fall off, the jay dug in and tried to pull out a slice, succeeding in tearing out a crust to take with it.

The couple shows up and realizes that the bread is just about to do a disappearing act, and take panicked action, whereupon the crow drops the loaf, and the crow and jay land in a nearby tree, screaming avian obscenities at the couple.

They pick up the bread, look at the significant hole, rather mangled center slices, and then glare at us.

"Why didn't you STOP them?"

Husband looks innocently at them, and quotes,"It's too heavy for the birds to mess with."

They glare at us for a minute, pull out the "dirty" slices, and throw them in the trash, and go into their motor home, slamming the door.

And we watch as the crow and jay swoop down, grab a slice each, and land on the now vacated table for lunch.  I was quiet about it, but I said, "Good going, guys..."

Husband just chuckled.

E is for Early Bird. Not...

Mon Ami was a rescue, from a family that had hand raised him.  He didn't know how to do the poultry thing, when he first came here.  He was even afraid of the other chickens, and the lawn.  He watched the other birds, though, and figured out, wow, I can do this.  And then he figured out he was a rooster, and seems to have been a happy bird since.

The one thing he doesn't do, is crow early.  Most of the roosters I've had, 3 to 4 a.m., they would  be starting crowing, jumping down from the roost to stretch, flap wings, and bellow hello to the morning.  

Mon Ami takes a rather more casual approach.  He will let the day know he's awake, eventually.  He does crow, but I have more than once heard him crow, oh, at the crack of 7ish...  He will crow at other times of the day, if he's happy, if he's angry, or when he is high up on a perch.

But greeting the day, he's happy to let someone else be an 'early bird'!