Many children play with an imaginary playmate. I played with imaginary birds. I cupped my hand and made all the grown ups “pet my widdle bird”. Some of my relatives were sure I was one enchilada shy of a combination plate! Later, and I remember this distinctly, one Sunday after church on a warm spring day I found a bunch of baby birds under the wax leaf ligustrum by the dining room window. Mama was making Sunday dinner and had shoo’ed me out of the house, so I ran back in, breathless, to tell her about my discovery. She was busy frying chicken and thought I was pretending. So I went to tell my daddy. He, too, it was more imagination. I even tried to tell my big brother but NO ONE believed that there were four or five baby birds playing in the bushes. So I just went back and sat under the bushes with the birds until Mama called me in to eat.
I’ve always been fascinated by birds. And I love beautiful photos of birds. My friend, Robbie, takes gorgeous portraits of birds and posts them to her Facebook page. That is how we met. She’s been gracious enough to let me borrow some of her images for painting reference and this is her painting – a thank you – to a kindred spirit, another bird-loving southern girl!
Here, on The Dirt Road, we have lots of wrens and, invariably, they build nests in the most precarious places. If it weren’t for me .. more than one little wren would have perished in spring storms. I’m grateful that they nest closeby so I can help in their rearing. Because we all need a little help, from time to time, in raising the younguns!