He Doesn't Belong

I felt my heart leap as I raised my lens to snap fifty or so photos of this wee feathery guy. My son's "Life Bird" was pecking the seeds just ten feet from us and we couldn't believe our eyes. You see, he's not supposed to be this far north. His tiny body craves the warmth of the south year round and we don't know how he lost his way--no one does. Not even the professional bird-watching photographers who stood in awe beside us--bazooka lenses mounted on tripods, covered in camouflage--could hazard a guess.

 

Oliver bent low and marked the occasion in his bird file folder while Meg lifted the camera from my neck to capture a cheery cardinal who seemed to show off just a little and command some of the attention himself. All of us shivered in the -8 degrees, biting air. It was worth it. We'd not only viewed a beautiful miracle of God, but were also gifted the time to photograph him. Since that day, many prayers have been whispered for his tiny self to survive the days to come until he can rest easy in the warm Spring breeze or decide to migrate home.

lovely Painted Bunting (God must have had fun with this one, especially) 

 

Thanks, Annie, for sharing the email that led us to the little park where he had been spotted.

(Like we always say, "Springies Forever!")

 

Our Disappearing Visitors

We've experienced a glorious summer of visitors at our feeders. We've watched squabbles between grackles and cardinals, nurturing between parent and fledgling downy woodpeckers, and rare sightings of indigo buntings that made our day. But it's that time of year when some of our tiny visitors disappear. It's bitter-sweet; bitter because we'll miss our frequent entertainment and sweet because it means we'll be enjoying the odd species we haven't seen since spring as they pass through here again on their way south.

Some of our winter birds will hang out on our branches, fluffing their feathers for warmth and pecking through the snow, scrounging for lost seeds. We will enjoy them and wait till spring for our long-lost visitors, peeking through the window, trying to catch a glimpse.