...since I've seen an Eastern Bluebird, but when I woke up this morning, one was perched on the pole where we hang our birdfeeders. Kristine has seen a few in our neighborhood. I last saw them when we lived in Lansing, maybe 6 or 7 years ago. Though once common birds, the expansion of English Sparrow populations and a loss of breeding habitat (tree cavities) have made them scarce. Perhaps those nesting boxes at the Matthei Gardens and in a few people's yards are making a difference. Or maybe I'm just lucky today. I'm not sure at the moment which I'd prefer to be the case; I always aspire to kinship with nature, yet today we'll be taking a whack at the front porch project that was driving us mad just before we went on vacation.
The bluebird hopped down to the yard and foraged in the grass briefly, then flew away. I went about making my oatmeal and starting the cofee, and when I looked out the window again, the bluebird was back on the feeder pole. This time I went to get Kristine, who was in the process of waking up. When we returned to the kitchen, though, the bird was gone. I guess the first sighting of the bluebird didn't augur a streak of luck.
Days that begin with an unexpected flourish of beauty are encouraging nonethless. Most would, I suspect, if I knew where to look.
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