You could do a lot worse than to spend your days staring at blue jays. — Julie Zickefoose, author of The Bluebird Effect and Saving Jemima-Life and Love with a hard luck jay

My breathing rate slowed and I closed my mind to repetitive thoughts and worries. My only focus was observing birds and learning about them. I was losing myself in birds in a positive way. — Joe Harkness, author of Bird Therapy

It was a peaceful morning sitting on the front porch watching a flock of bluebirds flit from ground to tree and then settling on a high wire. I can only imagine this to be at least two generations of bluebirds. In the Spring Sam attached the birdhouses high on the side of the garage. The bluebirds took over immediately vying for the best house. This was the most appropriate way to make sure the cats didn’t play pee-pie through the entrances of the birdhouses. The houses were at least 15 feet high and I wondered how the little ones would exit their home when the time came. It would be quite the free fall. Somehow, they must have fared well. The birdhouses are empty and there’s a flock of bluebirds dipping and diving through the trees.

The magnolia tree attracts birds, maybe looking for seeds. A little ways over where the old oak tree has Spanish moss thicker than thieves, a blue jay was attacking moss and bark looking for bugs. I don’t see many blue jays. Cardinals prefer the birdseed from the feeders- especially the sunflower seeds. The mourning doves get the pickings from what falls to the ground. In the midst of all the bird activity a tiger swallowtail flutters by. Swallowtails are solitary animals spending most of their lives in trees. The swallowtail does not migrate but will spend its winter in the chrysalis stage.

Hummingbirds are building-up. I imagine they are storing fuel for their long journey south of the border. At least three birds were zooming the feeders so that none could feed. Sam said, “That’s a big hummingbird.” And it was a bigger than usual, though “big” seems an odd word for a hummingbird. Since the birds were fighting so much and not feeding, I thought maybe I should refresh the nectar. I reached for their favorite watering hole and there it was. On the outside of the feeder undetected from the porch view was a silent, motionless praying mantis. Perhaps the mantis was the real reason the hummers didn’t stop at the feeder. I thumped the little fellow 12 feet to the ground. It’s hard to believe a praying mantis can kill a hummingbird but they can and they will. The hummers visited petunias, geraniums, and impatiens while they waited. It pleases me when occasionally they will hover a few feet away, then off they go again. Oddly enough a few hummers have visited the birdbaths. About supper time a variety of birds come to the birdbath jumping in and out.

After the rains, everything greened up. Trees are leafy and the grass grows daily. Mowing and bushhogging return. The lake we’ve been draining collected some water. Just enough for the egrets and geese to land and the occasional deer to drink his fill. Having been inside for the last couple of weeks, it’s been good to join the land of the living again.

Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].

READER FAVORITES

• 

  Our View: Selfish people don’t plant flowers

  By Dispatch Editorial Board • 1 day ago

• 

  Slimantics: Redistricting by another name is no less offensive

  By Slim Smith • 11 hours ago

• 

  Our View: We don’t want to hear, ‘there’s nothing to do’

  By Dispatch Editorial Board • 11 hours ago