Two or three days ago, we were visited by a family of bluebirds — a rare thing for us here in the valley. The youngsters, of which we think there were two or three, were capable fliers, but still clumsy enough to occasionally miss their landing targets. The parents were feeding them atop the neighbor’s fence, a convenient flat board that served as their picnic table. They were around for about half an hour, flitting from fence to fig to birch and back. We haven’t seen them since.
Yesterday we saw two house finches nibbling on sunflower leaves. This happens every year.
Last night, I dreamed I was very near a pair of finches. They sang, then paused, and then I answered by whistling lightly through my teeth. They tilted their heads, listening intently. We repeated our exchange another two or three times, and I had the feeling they could understand my corrupted version of their beautiful language; they seemed quite forgiving. A moment later they became very bright and very thin, almost featherless, then after one last song, they melted away.
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Categories: Everything and Nothing
Tags: Birches, Bluebirds, Dreams, Figs, Finches, Language, Singing, Sunflowers
William Michaelian 
Beautiful! Yesterday we watched a family of hawks gliding on the wind together. We could tell the two larger hawks from the four smaller ones as they wheeled around together in the sky. It was a beautiful and rare sight. My wife and son are the ones usually whistling with the birds – usually robins, mockingbirds, and bluejays; I coo with the doves. They do respond, too.
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