Humming James Taylor’s song that inspired the title. “Took a fall from a windy height, only knew how to hold on tight.”
The first bird I saw this morning when I came out into the family room was that vividly black and white-striped woodpecker, enjoying her breakfast. Good to have things back to normal.
My neighbors have a clothesline with a large, sturdy wooden post to either end, about half of the thing in view of my back window. Today I saw a black squirrel who apparently expected a telephone wire and tried to run down the rope. Twang! It flipped him, he grabbed for it, found himself suddenly clinging upside down while still trying to run the length; that didn’t work so well, so he scrambled to get back up to the top of it. Twang! He edged away out of my sight, repeatedly being bounced, again and again.
Squirrel trampolines. Who knew.
A few minutes later, a black squirrel safely on the fenceline, (same one?) I looked up again and there, sitting on that post near him and in plain view was the big adult Cooper’s hawk with her blue upper head, sitting in the chilly sunshine. Casually turning her head every now and then to watch some small bird and then another pass by overhead. Checking out the entrees. The squirrel seemed oblivious; she ignored him.
And lifted a big yellow foot and scratched herself. Ah, lovely day today, should make for a good flight.
Meantime I was picking up the phone and calling my neighbor. She ran across her house phone in hand to see the hawk from right there, and together we birdwatched across the telephone wire.
At last it stretched those huge wings wide and flapped off in no particular hurry across my yard. Nope–my feeder was finch-free on the far side too just then. Ah well then.
My neighbor told me about having recently watched a bird, she didn’t know what kind, swooping through snapping up the small cloud of termites that swarm here at the start of every rainy season, like catching popcorn as it bursts free of the popper. It was clearly enjoying the rare treat. Hey, little one: have seconds! Thirds! Bring your whole family, make it a feast!
It’s going to be cold enough tonight and tomorrow night that it could actually snow. The rain doesn’t come till the day after, so it looks like the 1964 date for the last snowman-able amount will hold. But it’s chilly, the little birds are eating up a storm at the feeders, and the big ones await their turn at them. All is in balance.
And we have another flight we’re watching for. John is almost home! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!