Day 119

Mr Tom, the turkey, with one of the three members of his harem, tiptoeing through the forest, balancing on their thin red legs.

Time galloped away with me today, and I only had 20 minutes in which to run, in the end, so I ran 1.29 miles (which is just over 2km), but subtract 5 minutes or so spent in wonder at discovering the mockingbird's beautifully woven nest, after some surreptitious searching.  I look forward to baby mockingbirds.  I also spent a while whistling a duet with a cardinal, although it could have been a mockingbird, as I never actually witnessed the bird with whom I was singing!

No considerate raccoon or fisher came and ate the crow in the night, so I have to dispose of it down the hill, but haven't been able to bring myself to do it yet, to pick up that heavy dead body, with those sad legs.  I actually like crows, although my sister hates them because they killed baby turtle doves in a nest she was observing.  I expect I would feel the same way, if I had become attached to a nest.  But I admire them for their intelligence and their social family life.  They also mate for life, which I always love about birds which do this, and they can live close to 17 years, if they are lucky and wily.  I think they are beautiful, blue-black and strong-beaked.  They are just part of the chaotic system, there are no fewer robins because crows may eat a few babies, robins just nest more times in the year so that hopefully some of their progeny will make it to adulthood.  Hawks go for young crows too, it is all part of the cycle. 

So my self-portrait tonight is with an American robin, because I always loved Cape Robins and Olive Thrushes in South Africa, and these robins which sing and sing here, remind me so much of them.  They stick out their fat earthenware-red breasts and sing away, and they are often in a group in the meadow, amongst the new grass, observant, watching for worms, cocking their heads sideways, the better to see and hear.