rejectomorph | Warming (Reply)

Today had the feeling of one of those days that comes along just before the sun goes crazy and burns everything to a crisp. The afternoon shade was exactly the right temperature for perfect comfort, and the direct sunlight not yet so warm as to be unpleasant, provided that one did not indulge in any rashly strenuous activity. I certainly didn't indulge in such activity. When outdoors, I lounged. There was an interesting encounter with a small bird of plentiful but indeterminate species. (I'm sure that someone who knew more about birds could recognize it, as there are dozens of its kind hanging about, but I have no idea what it is.)

I was on the porch, and noticed the bird hopping about at the end of the flowerbed, about twenty feet away. Slowly, it approached, looking directly at me now and then, but most of the time pretending to ignore me. My first surmise was that someone had been feeding it, and it was approaching me in the expectation that I, too, would have something for it to devour. But when it was only a few feet away, I noticed that it was already holding something in its beak. The bird hopped up the walk by fits and starts, and then went under the large bush (the one that can be partly seen to the left in the picture at this post from a couple of days ago) opposite my front door. Then it fluttered into the bush itself, and I realized that the object in its beak must have been a bit of construction material for a nest.

The bush is rather dense, and I can't see the nest within it, but I do know that birds sleep in there, as I sometimes hear them give a flap or two of their wings late at night. It isn't an ideal location for nesting, though. My cat goes in and out by that door several times a day. If she discovers hatchlings there, I doubt that they'll be safe, though the way the bush grows would make it difficult for her to make her way into its depths. She's a small and determined cat, and if any cat could get to a nest in that bush it would be her. I now wonder at the number of birds of this species that I see about every day. How have so many survived when they do something as foolish as nest in a bush under which a cat regularly naps?

The evening is pleasant. I'm going out to watch the few remaining clouds fade. I don't know when I'll get to see more. The days of vacuous blue skies are almost upon us.

Forgot this thing: From