I hit the bird lottery this week when a flock of Bluebirds visited my yard. They were feeding on the chokecherries incorporated into leafy arrangements of pine branches and sticks nestled in the big ceramic flower pots that sit on our deck by the river. The Bluebirds stuck around the general area for a couple of days before abruptly disappearing into a snow squall.
For the most part conditions were dark and I had to push my camera to it's limit. Fortunately, the objects of my affection tended to hold steady and I tried as best I could to settle my jittery hands.
A week later I am still craning my neck hoping my blue and cinnamon friends will return to the branches of the oak tree where they staged their forays into the berry laden twigs.
We who live in traditional Bluebird territories have a responsibility to provide suitable housing for these beauties as they compete with more aggressive starlings and sparrows for nesting opportunities. Bluebird resurgence is a credit to human intervention.
Sometimes it's a simple choice, to have or have not.
Consider the next four shots as you would a short movie. I think they tell a story and... I will resist the urge to caption them.
I'm a Bluebird!
Sir Paul McCartney's wonderful "Bluebird," take a listen.