An English In Kentucky


















May 27th 2010    Tim Candler

    The Close Mockingbird has his summer plumage.  He is slender and cheerful.   His more silent partner likes Strawberries, and she does take very little notice of my friend.  

   The Close Mockingbird has made his peace with Bluebirds, it is Cowbirds now who have upset him.  He still intensely dislikes Crows, but he must have come to some recent agreement with Dove that permits them an opportunity to seek nesting space within earshot of him.   They can waddle around hunting grit and they can coo at each other on his electric line, or sit in his rain gutter just whenever they want to.

    Difficult to tell with Mockingbirds.  Their repertoire gives them characteristics of a collector whose treasury is never full.  This or that song appeals according to mood and response to mood.  Old treasures are thrown out, new ones acquired.  Flamboyant singing impresses for a while, but in the humdrum of hot weather some other thing is required.

    So for experiment the Close Mockingbird will slowly chase a Pileated Woodpecker out of those tall Trees he calls his own and I can almost see him shrug at me.  But I had to agree that chasing Pileated Woodpeckers looked like fun.      

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