Or maybe she felt challenged, and if she did, she certainly rose to it.
She went outside the other morning and took real pictures, actually decent ones--and she agreed to let me post some of them. So here you go.
. . . Of course, left to my own devices, this is about what I would have come up with, if my Uncle Richard hadn't already come up with it long ago.
Oh, how I miss the catbirds I used to have around my house when I lived in DE. Now that I am in NC, I have not seen any catbirds, and miss their call. Some of the mockingbirds make similar sounds, but it doesn't quite cut it!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the comment--it's funny how we miss the sounds of particular bird calls. I rank it right up there with unique scents that are particular to a time and place (the smell of a wood fire in late autumn; the scent of lilacs in the spring).
ReplyDeleteI can close my eyes and remember--with heart-tugging clarity--the songs of canyon wrens and curve-billed thrashers, which I knew from my few years living in Arizona. I consider this phenomenon of sensory-emotional memory to be darned close to outright magic.
You know what I mean?
Julie