2003 “Birds of a Feather’ Calendar Description & Dedication

In the summer, often before full light of day, I wake to a cresecendo of birdsong, outside, overhead in the guardian maples that shadow our home. It is joyous and persistent. Insistent. Jubilant. It’s so much a part of the fabric of each day that unless I pause to notice it, and relish it is a gift from above, it’s easy to ignore, like the constant stream of traffic flowing past. These notes sung to one another, become absorbed into my day, too. These winged neighbors, so different from one another but similar in some respects, conduct their entire lives within earshot but separate from me.

Sometimes, I’ve been lucky enought to locate the source of a fluid melody and have glimpsed an orange flash of oriole, constructing its swinging nest near the top of a century-old maple. Looking beyond the road, beyond the ancient apple tree, I’ve seen the welcome sight of a bluebird calling, perched on the swaying telephone wires, waiting to nab unsuspecting grasshoppers. Hot summers walks to the river through the muggy, overgrown meadow yield more sights to remember as I pause to trace the swoop and soar of tree swallows performing acrobatics equal to any airplane show.

The faithful chickadees gather at our winter feeders, like we gather at the local diner. Some birds conduct their entire lives beyond our view, but it’s still nice knowing they’re near, like the Scarlet Tanager and Indigo Bunting we chanced to notice only during the springs when Jim and Rachel were born, and Dan and I seemed acutely awae of our shared world. Other birds that we see more often like th robins, jays, and juncos remain familiar but remarkable, nonetheless. Our youngest child, Joe, delights in spying on them from the kitchen window.

I drew “Birds of a Feather (Flock Together)” not only to honor the birds pictured in this calendar, but also to honor my family and friends who all share an awe and appreciation of birds in general. We lead different lives, in different towns and states, but our interest in these small creatures draws us all together. Cardinals remind me of my dad — we’d often spot bright red ones in the backyard apple tree while we did dishes together. (They’re also one of his favorite baseball teams.) I remember a pleasant porch visit with Aunt May and Uncle Ed years ago in Rome, Pennsylvania, and we sat and watched hummingbirds flit, fly and dart from feeders to trumpet vines to telephone wires while we talked about summer fairs, cousins, and gardens. Across the country, in Almont, Colorado, we’ve awakened to the early morning sounds of hummingbirds jockeying for positions around Aunt Lu and Ungle George’s porch feeders just outside our open window.

Thanks, Franklin, for suggesting I redraw my scrawny robin! And thanks to my brother, Gary, who used to deliver the weekly newspaper GRIT to our neighborhood. He sent my first crayoned drawing of a robin to the children’s page well over 40 years ago. I can still feel the excitement of seeing it published — I think they sent me a dollar!

The 2003 calendar also includes a table of information on all the pictured birds.