Basking in the Rays

Ah...the Good Life

I came home today from my learn-your-camera walk in our little woods with nothing more than the cliched easy-catch suburban bird shots (male and female cardinal, red-winged blackbird) that I won’t bother showing.

I entered my tiny apartment, reluctant to be under a roof again. I went straight to my camera roll. I was unimpressed with the results. I walked towards the daylight through my third floor windows, and stood there with the camera still around my neck.

And along came the poor quality image below, taken through my window glass, but it is perhaps worth special notice—the memory if not the image. It was for me at least. Made me grin.

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Through the louvers of the slated blinds I could see below me the cluster of ten tall genetically-vertical nursery cedars, gathered in an Entling circle that hides some kind of utility box. The ground below them is heavily mulched. Finches and sparrows are always abundant there, and in the dense foliage, high and low.

Look: a male goldfinch and a male house finch together not a foot apart. And a mourning dove dusting along the far edge.

But what caught and held my attention was a robin—as common as can be. Wait! Looking down at it, almost from above and viewing a line down the spine there was too much robin-red-breast visible. This body was oddly twisted.

Oh too bad. Must have flown into a window and he’s down for the count.

But as I continued from above to pity and feel badly for the poor bird, he fanned out his tail feathers and appeared to stretch—not a writhing with pain but an opening up to the light, with no small degree of pleasure. With glee!

He wiggled and shimmied until he faced the sun, looking back over his shoulder, sun-colored chest feathers fanned open, lifting the louvres, inviting the sun to warm his skin.

I swear I imagined him propped on one elbow, CHEER! CHEER! cheerfully singing Margaritaville, wanting so badly to grin. But that darned beak!