Posted tagged ‘ducks’

“As long as there is chocolate, there will be happiness.”

April 19, 2019

The morning is warm despite the wind. It was sunny, but now it’s cloudy. It rained last night and may rain again today. I’m not a fan of on again off again spring days. Here on the cape the wind keeps us cooler than the rest of the state. In the summer the wind is welcomed. This time of year not so much.

When I was a kid, we always had Good Friday off from school, but sometimes the nuns would make us sign up for an hour vigil at the church. I remember the statues were all covered in purple. I remember watching people doing the stations of the cross. I remember being totally bored.

I never knew where the Easter baskets and all the goodies were hidden. I thought maybe my parent’s closet, but I had no excuse to go rummaging. We used to get chocolate rabbits, the universal basket candy, jelly beans which back then were big and all of them pretty much tasted the same. The Easter Bunny also included small toys like my brother’s balsa plane while I got toys like jacks and the wooden paddle with the red rubber ball attached by an elastic. My sisters got stuffed rabbits or ducks. I don’t know how ducks horned in on Easter. All of a sudden there were ducks. We also got panoramic eggs with a scene inside. I know they were edible, but they tasted awful so we saved them. We, of course, ate the rabbit’s ears first. I think that was an unwritten custom.

Good Friday has always been meatless. My mother sometimes served fish sticks and French fries. Our favorite was fried dough. My mother couldn’t fry fast enough. We slathered the fried dough with butter and sprinkled salt on it. I remember all of us crowded around the dish waiting for more.

My laundry is put away. The trash is in the trunk so the dump is on my to do list. I called for an emergency eye doctor’s appointment. It is at 1:30. My eye feels as if something is in it.

I woke up at 8:30. I was shocked at how early it was.

“The woods would be quiet if no bird sang but the one that sang best.”

March 28, 2013

The morning is cloudy and was rainy earlier but it was a small rain, droplets. I would moan and groan about the sunless world in which I live except this morning was different. Over the sound of the rain I could hear birds singing. They were greeting the morning, and rain didn’t matter: it was the joy of the morning.

I stood at the kitchen window and watched the flicker pecking at suet in the feeder I bought just for him. A bird I don’t know waited its turn. I’ll look it up later in my bird book. One goldfinch was bright with color, the first to break out of winter drab. I noticed the thistle feeder is empty. I’ve had more goldfinches than ever, sometimes seven or eight at the same time, and thistle is a favorite of theirs. The chickadees are few, and I miss them. They, the titmice and nuthatches are the sunflower seed birds. I have three different feeders for them. The sole woodpecker is either at the suet in the small feeder or tapping a pine tree. The small suet feeder looks like a house. It’s kind of cool and the birds grab on upside down.

I don’t remember people having bird feeders in their yards when I will little. The few times we went to Boston in the warmer weather, I remember feeding the pigeons and the ducks at the Public Garden. I also remember feeding the squirrels. That was before their spawn days. I thought it was really neat to see them so up-close. Pigeons are still fun to watch. Drop a few pieces of bread and they all move to the same spot, pushing and shoving and even taking to the air. They are very noisy birds. I always feel bad about pigeons. They’re nobody’s favorite bird. They have squat bodies and are dull in color. Pigeons seem to hang around in large numbers so the odds of getting bread are slim. I always try to throw some to the back of the pack which then makes all them turn just about at the same time and they all squawk about the inconvenience.

My mother used to get pigeons at her feeders, city birds we’d call them. It frustrated her to no end. She wanted cute little birds like chickadees, but, instead, she’d get sparrows, almost as common as the pigeons. The crows dropped by often because my mother was always throwing out something for them. “Save it for the crows,” she’d tell us. Once she got a seagull. That was a puzzler. She called to have me guess the bird which had visited. I didn’t guess seagull. That’s one bird which has never ever stopped at my feeders. I guess my mother’s was a country cousin of sorts visiting its city cousins. She never saw another seagull in her yard.

“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.”

March 20, 2012

Happy First Day of Spring!

We welcomed spring this morning by watching the sunrise on the beach. We arrived about 6:15, and when we got out of the car, the smell of the ocean filled the air the way it does on some mornings. A bank of fog covered the houses behind us on the bay, but the ocean was clear. It was the warmest first day of spring I can remember. At first, we were the only ones on the beach. There we were, the  three of us, sitting in our beach chairs as if it were a summer day. The sea was so calm you could barely see the waves touch the sand. Behind us were squawking ducks while over the water were seagulls making all sorts of noises. I watched the birds dive into the water hunting breakfast. The sky was pink, and the pink was reflected in the water. Clare hunted shells so we could have a memento. A woman and her dog went by us down to the jetty at the end of the beach. She was throwing a tennis ball, and he was running with such joy I swear the dog was smiling.

We saw the sun start to rise when the tip first appeared, and it was glorious, all red and so bright it made us see dots before our eyes. As the sun got bigger, it seemed to get brighter and brighter. The water was so calm it reflected every bit of the light, and on it we could see the red as if a broad road led from the sun. Canada geese floated by us and several others flew right over the water toward the rising sun. We sang our welcome spring songs and took pictures of each other. It was a glorious morning which ended with our traditional first spring breakfast.

On the way home from breakfast, we couldn’t see Scargo Lake because the fog was so dense. I love foggy mornings, and I loved this morning with all its beauty, color and tradition.