Sunday February 10th 2013
The Alatus, or Invasive Burning Bush, or The Winged
Euonymus, all depending upon perspective, is now without fruit.
And the Privet is bare, all except a few stubborn leaves and one or two
shriveled berries. Gaunt at last, they look. But the
Close Mockingbirds, both appear fit enough when I saw them earlier this
evening. They were sitting in their empty larder watching each
other, waiting for the rain and wind and maybe a thunderstorm, perhaps
hail, and possibly a little snow in time for Asteroid DA14. A
duller name one cannot conceive of.
I don't believe Privet Berries are favorite food
for a Mockingbird. On through the first deep frosts of December and
into the cold the Close Mockingbird guarded his shrubbery. He was
fierce about it, and I can forgive myself for thinking it's just his
way. The Berries will go to waste, I say to him. They'll dry up or something
like a Mouse, or a Waxwing will eat them, and no one really wants that..
Then all of a sudden, you'll see the Close Mockingbird and his gentler
collaborator, together in the branches of the Privet feeding in a sort of
pain filled manner. Neither of them in the least happy. Or maybe they
just feel guilty. Or perhaps Privet Berry causes indigestion. This
year it was the last weekend of January, ice in the sky, the Privet was
still full of food. Fifteen days later, it's pretty much all gone.