My Cornbread is the Talk of Bird Town!

First, the big, red male showed up.

 Then the juvenile male came in for a nibble.

 

By the time the girl birdie showed up, there were hardly any crumbs left.

This one has been cleared for landing, but he’s coming in perpendicular to the runway. I think he’ll manage just the same.

 

As the Count would say, 9… 9 beautiful cardinals, ah, ah, ah. And does anyone else see the one strip of unfoggy air in this photo? I think (and don't judge me)... but I think it might be Narnia.

I can’t wait for the bluebirds, titmice, and robins to show up. I also have a barred owl in those woods back there; who, who, who cooks for you?

Welp, farewell from Bird Town. Here’s one of my little nature poems to set you right for the weekend.

Evening News

The titmouse has come this evening to give me
a full report on the day’s events
as I sit here on the porch reading poetry.

The tabby and the tomcat are at odds
over the timing of the 7:30 school bus, and
the barred owl is all aflutter over the three
robin nestlings four trees down.

The cicadas are singing with one voice

something about a suicidal squirrel.

And Mislawa has snapped her fingers

to recapture my attention, but I am
distracted from the page once again

as the night-blooming jasmine,

peeping ‘round the porch post,
whispers, with its intoxicating breath,

Relax while I tell you what really happened.