Like An Aviary
Jul. 26th, 2020 09:12 amThe big cherry tree is dying- which I'm sad about because it used to put on such a spectacular display in spring. Matthew says nothing has gone wrong. It's just that cherries are short-lived. It's a full grown tree, it's had its time- and now it's fading away.
It's not quite dead. Though it looks like a skeleton it still sports a few bunches of small, feathery leaves; mostly high up. It's going, but it's going slowly- gallantly- and with the odd flourish.
Because it's mostly bare I can see the birds in it- many of them birds that don't- or only rarely- come to the feeders. At first glance I spot a pair of goldfinches, the first this summer- then I see a wren- then several white-fronted birds that ancestral memory tells me- not necessarily correctly- are linnets. It's like an aviary, only without the imprisoning wire.
One of the linnets perches just above my head and eyes me up. I ask it what it is and it asks the same of me...
It's not quite dead. Though it looks like a skeleton it still sports a few bunches of small, feathery leaves; mostly high up. It's going, but it's going slowly- gallantly- and with the odd flourish.
Because it's mostly bare I can see the birds in it- many of them birds that don't- or only rarely- come to the feeders. At first glance I spot a pair of goldfinches, the first this summer- then I see a wren- then several white-fronted birds that ancestral memory tells me- not necessarily correctly- are linnets. It's like an aviary, only without the imprisoning wire.
One of the linnets perches just above my head and eyes me up. I ask it what it is and it asks the same of me...