and images about Birds and Birding
Do Birds Have Christmas?
On a chilly Christmas morn,
as I looked out the window
at a crystal coat of frost
on the Mulberry tree,
I saw a sudden movement, like
a darting shadow,
that quickly transformed,
into a happy Chickadee.
A thought crossed my mind,
as I watched this little friend.
Could I learn the truth, from
a fine-feathered brother?
If the Chickadee could talk,
my ear he would bend.
Do you birds have Christmas,
or is this day just another?
I watched, and listened, for action and sound.
Suddenly, a Brown Creeper,
diving with speed
halted its plunge, a foot
from the ground,
to peck at some old suet covered
More tiny friends appeared, to my delight.
The tree filled with blacks, reds and yellows
as Goldfinch and Cardinals
arrived in a flight.
Do birds have Christmas? Tell
me, little fellows.
Some Juncos flew in, these
darts of slate.
They were hopping and
jumping like children at recess,
feeding on seeds
with the ground as their plate.
Do they know of Christmas?
I can only guess.
I pushed close to the window
with my forehead,
as nuthatches and woodpeckers
joined in the throng.
All colors of feathers, white,
black, yellow and red.
Each different, but the same,
all getting along.
I sneaked open the window, and heard them all sing,
At last to my mind came all
the right words.
It was as clear as their chorus,
a choir on the wing.
Birds don’t have Christmas,
Christmas has birds!
Mick Zerr, Christmas morning, 2005
|Long-eared Owl at Big Sioux Rec. Area S.D. Photo by Mick
Eyes so round, always staring
Like small suns, forever glaring
Nothing lost, nothing missed
By the haunting, yellow disks
A face of color, with rust for cheeks
Centered by the smallest of beaks
With a mustache of grey
Often red with prey
The ears, oh the ears!
But not how he hears
Just tufts of beauty
To the girls a cutie
A head to swivel, almost around
To pickup the littlest sound
Of mice and voles
Coming out of their holes
Silver moon is queen, shining bright
A movement in the trees, now silent flight
The Watcher no more, a flyer at last
An Owl with talons, a missile so fast.
Peopleing on 2-19-06
fellow peoplers, it was cold today, but there was plenty of grain at the Corson feed lot. We were hoping for some birders
to add to our life lists, since peopleing has been rather slow due to the weather, and of course, the constant danger from
the Red-tailed ones who could care less about us Peoplers.
We flew near every people’s car that came buy, but none seemed interested in us. That is a slam, since we feel
that we are a rare and unique group of flyers, at least in South Dakota. I can’t wait till spring when many People Birders
(PB’s) will be out, even though the competition with the non-residents, especially those fair weather peoplers, the
Warblers, will be intense.
We were about ready
to give up when a silver car filled with people came by very slowly. We quickly checked our field guides, and discovered it
was a Honda CRV, a common car for PB’s. If we would be lucky enough to have PB’s in it, it could be a life-PB
for most of us, especially if it contained more than one PB.
One of our newer members
asked how we could tell a PB from a human who has stopped for another reason, and we quickly opened our field guide and showed
him the telltale trait. The Binoculars! But we reminded him that not all PB’s have the same behaviors, for some have
Cameras (p. 32 in the guide), and people who stop and have GUNS, mean fast flying away for us.
Anyway, we were flying all around the silver car and finally it stopped,
and lo and behold, PB’s stepped out. We were so thrilled we Cooed at them, at let them get a good look at us before
flying away to tell others about our sighting. Our new member exclaimed, “I’m hooked, peopleing is fun, and a
lot less dangerous than teasing hunters for thrills!” I was really happy for him because it is really difficult to get
younger birds interested in Peopleing.
From your Friendly Eurasian Collared Dove Peopleing
Zerr © 2006-2011
Last Flock Flies
12. 21. 2012 ©Mick Zerr
The sky is
with the seasons.
us to peer skyward
us endless reasons.
is fading, Winter looms ahead.
birds are fat from endless feeding.
fields and trees they hastily fed,
for a southern greeting.
of, black and red, rufous and white
“V”s and lines so long;
and squawking, day and night,
a wondrous season song.
haste the sky will turn its tune
glorious sounds and singing wings
winters snows and howling glume,
us the cold it brings.
the fading V will be out of sight.
be gazing then at empty skies,
we could have joined the flight,
the last flock flies.