Birds!

turkey in March 2012

I was hoping to sleep until 7:15 a.m. today, but the pheasant outside my window had another idea. It sounded like he was standing on my balcony and every minute or two he’d let out a tremendous squawk followed by a rapid whirring of his wings. I’m sure it’s very sexy to female pheasants. It  made me anxious. And awake.

These are great — and anxious — days for bird life. It has been lush and green and rainy for the past four days, and the first goldfinches, bluebirds, cardinals and red-breasted everything are like jewels in the landscape.

Tom turkey is strutting his stuff and spreading his tailfeathers. The geese and ducks are coming and going at all hours, not sure where to go and what to do or quite where to set up house. (Not on our pond, please! It’s the pond of death!)

The turtles are also making their way from the lower pond to the upper pond. We moved three of them from the driveway to safe ground on Sunday alone.

But into all this, tragedy also struck. Last Thursday, when I was reading dozily on the screened porch, the chickens started putting up a huge ruckus. Although they are hens, now and then they will crow. But this was unusual, and I almost went out to see if they were OK. But I was drowsy and it seemed like whatever had happened was probably over.

Turns out, one of the chickens was caught and killed by a hawk. When I heard them, they’d rushed to the barn and were safely in hiding. (In fact, the sound seemed to be coming from the area where the bees are, and I was wondering if they were getting in each other’s way.)

Within two days, this is all that was left of the chicken. Between the hawk and the crows, they left nothing but the feet and a few feathers. (Making me wonder about people who eat chicken’s feet if they are even rejected by scavengers! Must be in the preparation.)

The other chickens are still a little stunned, and I spotted three of them standing on the dead understory of a pine tree for hours on Saturday. But every day they venture out a little farther.

Which is to say, it’s a wonderful chaotic time. The fact that it didn’t thaw until May doesn’t seem to have hampered things too badly, especially with the rain helping the plants to catch up. The sand hill cranes, clearly on the nest, are quiet. But the frogs, the birds, the rest of life is at full volume.