Bettie and I took a walk out to the garden this afternoon.  After verifying that things looked good (although we saw racoon prints inside the electric fence, and found a bunch of uprooted flowers), I decided to read the rest of the day’s paper out on the porch.

Yes, the daily local paper.  We got an offer to get the Sunday paper for six months at a cheaper rate than buying it over the counter.  After we signed up, they started delivering Friday-Saturday-Sunday.  If they want to do that for the cheaper-than-OTC Sunday price, fine.

I’m sitting on the front porch, right in front of the hummingbird feeder.  I hear bird sounds all around, and then the chup of a hummer.  I move the paper down to see him flying away.  Not a perfect sighting, but there’s almost no hummer sighting that’s bad.

A bit later, a goldfinch stops in to the hummer feeder.  He drinks water (there’s a bit of a cup design to the feeder), watching warily, then flies off.

Something big is flying in the trees to my right.  It was squawking a bit, but now is silent.  It never shows up.  Probably eaten by a giant sloth.

And the hawks – oh, the hawks.  Flying for minutes on the thermals and gentle breeze, never flapping a wing, their shadows gliding by as silent as the birds themselves.

All I have from this is a memory and a blog entry.  There’s almost never a bad bird interaction.  Although we watched The Red Pony a week ago – very bad bird interaction.  We kept telling ourselves “it’s only a movie, it’s only a movie”.  And it was.