Something new awaits its moment in the sun. It is taking a long time to dry. I think it might be fabulous, but there is no way to tell yet, other than to keep measuring it, and measuring myself, and hoping the two numbers are still compatible. Or it might be ridiculous, but in the best way. Anyway, I wait. In the meantime, the yard filled up with these the other day:
A whole flock of them settled in that crabapple tree, early in the morning, and they sat there all day, nibbling at the (probably fermented by now, which may explain their lengthy visit) raisiny fruit and muttering to each other. Oblivious to the marauding Grackles and Robins. I thought their stoicism seemed kind of heroic, but that may be the result of too many cabin-bound days, making anything at all happening outside look like a National Geographic documentary. They sat there. They ate. I was fascinated.
Something made them all do this at once:
Stre-e-e-e-tch! Then relax again. Bird yoga.
I think they’re Cedar Waxwings, which are somewhat transient here in my neighborhood. We only see them as they pass through, so they seem quite exotic characters to me. They were unmoved by my opening the kitchen window and hanging out it as far as I could, camera lens (such as it is) zoomed out as far as it would go, clicking away.
My garden is mostly a habitat for the perching birds of the dull and brown variety, so a guy like this, in his yellow trousers and sexy superhero mask, looks like quite a movie star.