The catbirds are back visiting me this summer. I have a few of them. It is hard to tell them each apart. They wear a slate-gray suit with a slick black cap upon their head. Their rusty-red rumps have swag. Their tails point up and down, sometimes mooning me with their underparts.
They like to watch me when I come outside upon my deck or step down into the garden. They are self-appointed guardians of this domain. Upon my arrival one will fly close enough to give me its curious side-eye stare. Its eyes are dark and clearly focused on watching me.
Sometimes it will sing a song, but mostly it seems to question me. Our language barrier does not stop either one of us from trying to inquire about the other’s business. Eventually it will lose its nerve or be distracted, and then it will hop, skip, and fly away deeper into the canopy of trees.
However, I’m not fooled for it moves from hiding place to hiding place, always aware of where I am. If I’m lucky, it will sit and entertain me with its playful run of song and sounds.
movingforwardslowly 