Dad loved to watch the birds -- not with binoculars, but with his hawk-eye vision that time couldn't steal. He knew how smart they were, and he loved to recount the story of the "blackbird" that dropped stones in a well to bring the water level up so that he could reach it and drink his fill. He knew we could learn a lot about human nature by watching birds going about their business. Even when he was at First Community Village and couldn't get outside, he sat by his window and watched the birds.I hope his spirit is now in flight, going everywhere birds can fly, looking down on the landscape below and soaring above it all, watching for danger and sounding a warning to us when he spots it. When I look out my window and see a male cardinal perched in the tree, I smile and say, "Hi, Daddy."
6 comments:
EEEKKK!! I woke up this morning to the sound of a bird squawking and wished you or Daddy were here to tell me what it was about...and then I read this? :)
He kept those bluejays on their little bird toes, that's for sure.
Why have I not known about this blog? What a sweet and lovely place to visit. I hope it's okay for me to drop by. I am enjoying it so much.
I miss the birds.
Ms. Moon, my sister and I just started it a week ago. It has been so hard to be all so far away, having buried Mom and Dad so quickly and then all high-tailing it for our far corners of the continent. We need soooo much more time to get used to their being GONE. :(
Cece, Better buy yourself a canary to cheer you through those NH winters --as well as search petfinder.com for an otter to rescue. :)
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