A tragicomedy is playing out around us here in western Oregon. Mosquitoes are abroad. Song Sparrow and robins and flicker are coming forth with spring territorial orations. Flowers, often the forerunner or any next season, are now abounding.
My forlorn snow shovel sits dusty in the garage corner, where I last stroked its smooth handle three months anon and promised to return…my pail of ice-melting salt sits filling with bits of bark and sawdust from the firewood pile…and I cannot recall how long it’s been since I had to break the ice in the bird baths, much less fill them with hot water from inside the house.
Adult Bald Eagle passing over north McMinnville this morning:
80% of the female Hooded Mergansers on No Name Pond. This sorority gathering indicates they have not partnered off for next nesting season.
House Finches at home in the sun earlier this month:
Part of a covey beneath a garden feeder where blackbirds scatter goodies on the ground, along Pinot Noir Street.
His mother always told him “Get a grip, don’t eat so fast.” Well, he does get a grip, right?
FLORAL FEBRUARY
There are already more blossoms around than a flower shop at Valentine’s Day and that’s more than a week away…here, the heather:
Dutch iris:
TWO SPARROW SPECIES IN MY GARDEN
Myrtle Warbler two days ago in our garden, today the Audubon’s reappeared. They are never together.
Towheeblog 
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