i prefer them less sexy.

neighbors,
i am psyched on my little ugly buddies.
for real,
the eaves of my house are home to
at least two families of fine feathered friends.
no foolin'.
one of those groups of greasy-headed downy
doo-doo wormpuke regurgitators is
decidedly easier to photograph.
case in point:

they stay pretty low key until their ma comes to barf down their throats.

c'mon.
they love that sh!t.

 

they may not be nearly as sexy as the dead ones,
but these fresh, loud, fledglings are still pretty rad.
(and you thought ducklings were ugly... dang)
that's life in action, y'all.
rockin' robins, kids.
connecticut's state bird, by the way.
and also the only connecticut-related wildlife
i welcome to reside under the protection of
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
that's the truth.
yesterday,
we hung up a feeder,
precariously perched away from where
the hairy bears can comfortably climb,
and farther away than the longest bear paws can swat.
we're on that bird-mutha-'ucking-watching, duders.
already,
we have nuthatches,
and goldfinches,
and sparrows,
and chickadees stopping by to snack up a little bit.
that's in addition to the cardinals, jays, juncos,
mourning doves, robins, titmice,
and assorted other other winged snackers
attacking the custom blended birdseed buffet
my wifey spreads out for all those hungry harpies
every single flippin' day.
we're on that wing-and-a-prayer sh!t.
except without the prayer.
we do like all these birds though, yo.
that's how we take Tea aNd Toast to eleven these days-
the picture window picture show and bestial aviary revue.
our day is underway.
the birds have been busy since well before we were ready.
***********
the sun is out,
and so are the bikers.
we need a new refrigerator.
hard.
so,
instead of warming up for the very first
higher-than-sixty-degrees-outside day in a week,
we're getting all cold and stainless,
like a couple of shooting energy stars.
you know how it goes:
loud. fresh. hard. and really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....