Birds

I love having birds around.  Not parrots or parakeets but real, wild birds.  What got me to thinking of this is today the microwave repairman came and when I opened the front door to let  him in he pointed out to  me a bird nest with four, beautiful, speckled eggs in it and mentioned mama bird had flown away when he approached the door.

That has brought back so many memories of when I was a small child and lived with or visited my grandparent's house down on Nat's Creek, Ky.  On the front porch on one side of the door was my grandfather's rocking chair and on the other side was the porch swing.  There on the front of the porch were four posts holding the roof up and between those posts were two troughs like a window box planter.  Only there were no plants.  They were there for Poppy's birds.   Every day Granny would have to make extra biscuits or corn bread when she cooked just for Poppy to put in those thoughs for his bids.

I can remember him coming out with a bunch of bread and calling, 'Pee, pee, pee, pee' and the birds would come flocking around from all directions.  He'd scatter the bread in those boxes and the birds would congregate and have a feast with no apparent fear.  He also had a lard bucket lid nailed to (horizontally like a shelf) to the big tree on the edge of the bank in the front yard.  He'd put bread on that as well and the birds would flock around until every last scrap was gone.

That did not really awe me then as it was something I was used to but is sure awes me now.  I really wish I could do that.  Call birds to me and have them gather around to eat with no fear.  I love having wild things around me.  I guess that is a product of my childhood in the country.  My wife is a city girl and she just does not understand my love for having "critters" around.  At one time she had a hanging basket fern on the front porch and each spring birds would build a nest there.  Each time we'd come out the front door the bird(s) would flash out of that fern and she'd jump like she'd been shot.  Finally she just took that fern down and we don't have any hanging plant our there.  Have not had any birds make a home on our porch in years.

Now one has.  It has made a nest in the wreath my wife had placed on our front door.  I've told her she just has to use the garage door to go in and out as I don't want my birds messed with.  I can't explain why it means so much to me but I feel so much better just knowing they are out there.  I want to put up a bird feeder on the porch so mama will not have to go so far in search of food.

Isn't it amazing something that happened over a half century ago has such an impact on me today.  I wish I could get some photos of her/them.  I wish I could call them to me and spread bread out for them and all their friends.  Is this just a sign of getting old?