Rarely, I dream about birds. They are usually very small, pretty birds, of a species my dream invents, who sit on my hands or fill my dream-composite garden.
Until visiting Vancouver no little bird (apart from my large pet bantam when I was small!) had ever perched on my real, not dream-hand, though a friend had told me about chickadees fluttering about him somewhere near Toronto (is it only Canadian chickadees that are so friendly?).
In Stanley Park, standing under a canopy of quiet redwoods, or near a lake on a path overgrown by salmon berries and listening with ears pricked for the high-pitched staccato twittering of these little birds, with a hand held out in hope, is one of the nicest things I have ever done. I know one should not feed wild birds but...I am weak. How they see one, or notice one standing there, in a random spot, stopped just because their calls have been heard high above, I don't know.
Near the lake, above and below.
I'm besotted with chickadees and these pictures are enchanting. I believe the near-Toronto location is on a trail near the Royal Botanical Gardens in Hamilton. A friend of mine who works there has often told me about the friendly chickadees who will perch on your hand. Have I visited yet? No... but I'll be correcting that situation shortly.
ReplyDeleteMarie, how lovely. To have a chickadee on your hand! They are really sweet little birds of which we don't have the pleasure of over here in the UK. Our resident robins can be quite tame, although mine never seem so. x
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