The little white-bellied junco that perched atop my bird feeding pole was grateful, I’ll bet, for a place to feed on the frosty winter day.
His friends, the loud and obtrusive blue jay and the shy, red cardinal also make their visits, reminding me that there’s still such thing as color in the white of winter.
The pole, a Christmas present to me, sits outside my study window and is a pleasant diversion.
It invites me to peek up from my writing and watch a whole new community at work.
Researching the jay’s calls on the internet, I find that there are four of them and they each have a distinct sound.
There’s the squeaky gate, the bell call, the hawk alarm, and the jay-jay-jert.
Now, maybe you’re not the “bird nerd” that I am...
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photo credit: James Marvin Phelps
Amish Fiction Author and Blogger:
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