Saturday, May 27, 2017

Towhee visitor


I've got a young towhee friend who is worse that the outside cat wanting in. She comes in the back door to graze on the kitchen floor, no matter that I sweep out the crumbs daily. Plenty of tasty bits on the stoop but she prefers to take her luck on the kitchen floor. My grandmother had a similar rapport with the towhees who came to visit her for crumbs during morning coffee. I find myself talking to the bird as if she were a cat. Sometimes she ventures down the hall and I have to shoo her out. She's completely unafraid of me, won't even fly off, but hops out like a small drab chicken, muttering her indignation to the world. I think it's the towhee whose baby I rescued last summer... My grandmother said to let birds come into the house was to let death come into the house. But somehow I don't think towhees count. But I tell her anyway, no use looking here. Out! Out! Out you go! You're worse than a cat. She flicks her tail in indignation. Cheeps her one-note song, to return another day.

Towhee in the Kitchen
Rescuing a Towhee Chick
DEATH OF A SONGBIRD, BASTILLE DAY

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