A few minutes with Cedar Waxwings

I like the look of birch bark until it reminds me of my skin, magnified.

Last Wednesday we had a break from the wind and sub-freezing temps. Before dinnertime, I casually strolled through the yard for a while, looking for something eye-pleasing to photograph. Feeling desperate, in a way…

It was a day when one feels life is caving in at every angle.

Dull, brown Crepe Myrtle pods made for a nice photo but they didn’t lift me much. Maybe if a Goldfinch had landed...

I wondered when I’d ever be able to bring out the garden hose to wash the dirt from the windows, deck, and rocking chairs on the front porch. Everything outside has been so dirty for so long... The water restrictions are still in force, dammit, and I need to use soap and a garden hose! We’re very dry, still.

I wondered if I will be able to plant new this spring to entertain the butterflies and hummingbirds.

I wondered when I’d be able to wash the pond filter without feeling my fingers might freeze and crack off. Ooops.

I wondered what will make him STOP. He’s still guarding feeder stations and I haven’t seen my nuthatches or woodpeckers in over a week.

There’s nothing major going on to cause me worry. I let all the small, nagging stuff get the best of me.

Thank you, Chickadee. You’re a brave, tiny bird.

Tied to the kitchen during these short evenings, rushing to tend to the bird feeders and exercising Chloe and Bella, made me feel real sorry for myself. There were two loads of laundry waiting for me. And I remembered that I need to schedule a day off from work to clean hardwood. My office job is too busy right now and I’m not enjoying it one bit, either. Woe was me.

At 5pm, the birds line up on the fence. I thought if anyone had a pair of Cardinals, they must have ten more. Yes, I do have at least fifteen pairs. Cardinal red is definitely a bright spot on my small landscape but it wasn’t enough to put me in a decent mood on this particular day. No way.

Their feeders were empty. How would you like to have thirty Mourning Doves show up for dinner and a splash in the pond? It’s their ritual and one which I welcome, actually, but they never let me near. They prefer private spas.

The evening shadows were chilling as I lifted the collar on my coat but the sky was still bright blue. When I looked to the northern sky, just before heading back inside, I saw what looked like an army of small fighter planes with bright yellow undersides, flying very low, in close formation over the pond. I froze in my tracks and watched their landing for a moment before I raised the camera. Yeah, I smiled.

In a weeping willow high on a hill, beyond my back fence, the setting sun highlighted their shades of pastel yellow and golden brown so nicely.

I wanted to see their bright red and yellow waxy wing tips and hoped my Kodak zoom would help me.

Is there a bird more glamorous than a Cedar Waxwing?

They didn’t arrive here to eat. I don’t have their fruit. Not yet. They rested for a few minutes.

Ahhhh. Smooth and sleek. Painted birds, all dressed up. Getting ready for an early evening around the town.

I watched from inside to see if they would land on the pond like a few did a while back, but as soon as I stepped inside, they fled.

Now see? What if I had not taken my bad mood on a little nature walk in the back yard? I would have been crabby all night. A flock of Cedar Waxwings saved my day and everything was alright. Thank you.