House Finch April 8th, 2012



He's back!!! I thought he had been murdered by magpies last year. Well, if it is not him it is indeed one of his relatives. Singing his little heart out. I don't think there is a sound more cheerful and uplifting to my soul than the trill of a house finch.
He doesn't get up too early in the morning unlike the robins whom one can learn to hate by the middle of May. The robin's chirp so longed for all winter, turns to an annoying shrilly caw by May and thoughts of pegging him off with a rifle if I only had one, flit through my mind.
Un aware of what I was really seeing, I watched his relative being torn to shreds by juvenile magpies last summer. They had their backs to me and I thought they were stealing strawberries. I was willing to forgive them for their fruit theft and thought their antics were quite comical until I went outside to see what they had stolen when a little pink feather floated past my face. And then another and then I saw the still warm body...headless now, of my beloved little finch.
Now I find it difficult to feel much for magpies. Except that they are so ingenious, and smart and crafty and gynmastic and well they gotta eat too.
Photos courtesy of Ashley Morrow. She has a new whiz bank Nikon