i (i) wrote,
i
i

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bird stories

story number one: around this time of year, purple martins descend on my neighborhood in large numbers for a few days on their way to somewhere. they swarm around, poop a lot and make a cacophanous sound. i thoroughly enjoy it. the other day, i was out in my back yard. there was a group of martins in the sycamore tree two houses down, another group in the palm trees in front of my house, and a third on the phone lines in the alley. at precisely the same time, they all took flight, for no apparent reason. the group from the sycamore flew over to the palm trees. the palm tree group flew to the phone lines, and the phone line contingent went to the sycamore tree. them they all went back to chirping as if nothing had happened.

story number two: i pulled a bunch of weeds in my back yard today. they always get out of hand at this time of year. i filled a wheelbarrow to overflowing and stuffed a garbage can. a group of what i believe to be goldfinches have decided that the wheelbarrow is a buffet. about eight of them are flitting back and forth to it, fighting over the weed seeds, and generally making a spectacle of themselves.
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