An English In Kentucky


















Sunday May 12th 2013    Tim Candler


     A pair of Blue Grey Gnatcatchers.  A Least Flycatcher.  The butterfly flight of a courting Yellow Chat. One Hummingbird, who paused a while to sit in sunshine, warm himself on a cold morning. Indigo Bunting, bad tempered in the cut grass. Three Tree Swallow.  One Confusing Warbler, he or she was greenish and had the sharp beak. Two  Nightjar.  It's a list for this morning's coffee clutch with migratory birds.  Which, I'd suggest, is the only possible reaction to the Pope canonizing just 800 of the 813 Martyrs of Otranto who were beheaded in 1480 by Ottomans following a dispute over who might own the One God.

    I don't call Phoebes, or Snow Birds migratory any more, nor can I call the Northern Harrier a winter visitor.  The two Bobwhites are residents. And we are getting a little too much attention from Crows, so full we are of eggs and nests and rushing around. And the Red Squirrel is guilty of something, I'm certain. He has the happy smile. And late tonight into tomorrow's sunrise there could be frost on the Iris.  So, if for some unaccountable reason you care about these sort of things, it's all very exciting and well worth waking up for.


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