Hey It’s Jet Here.
When Mom grew up in Northern New Jersey, the birds that most commonly crossed her path had names like: sparrows, blue jays, cardinals, orioles and robins. Cute specimens with brown, blue, red, black and gold, brown and red feathers, these birds measured about one to two adult female fists side by side.
Flip the calendar a couple decades and Mom finds herself living in the tropics. She becomes more mindful of her neighborhood species first as a result of taking baby Rachel around in her stroller, then while walking Koko, (may she be frolicking over the Rainbow Bridge), then Koko and me, then me, and now JJ and me.
As Mom named some of our local avian varieties aloud this morning, she noted that wingspans ranges from cute to mini-pterodactyl! Here goes:
The morning whisper-quiet whir of the ibis fly-by and lawn landing.
The cacophony of squawking/chirping green parrots at sunset.
A solitary great blue heron taking flight.
The vibrant macaw high in the sky. (We are pleased and relieved to share that after quite some time of only seeing one (they mate for life), we’ve seen our couple reunited this week.)
The repetitive pecking from the red headed woodpecker on our telephone poles.
Chatty crows flying in large flocks, then settling on yards to feast.
Evidence of golden eagles via their huge nests resting on telephone poles.
Screech owls justifying their name with their calls.
And of course, our
arrogant uh, I mean handsome peacock, who Miss Mary Ann named Winchester, after the character from the TV show M*A*S*H.
Another great, bird watching, day.