Little Sparrows

I am so thrilled to have a flock of sparrows in my tree. It's more like a shrub that climbs the brick wall around the property. It's the perfect height--six feet. Chewy can jump up and down as much as he wants, but he can't reach them. The chocolate twins know better than to harm other creatures now. They're older. The cat got out a few nights ago, though. He's the oldest of the bunch, and they all know it. They show him the respect he deserves. When it comes to hunting, though, he's still a kitten. He obviously caught something in the dark. I won't go into detail.

These sparrows in the shrub beside my back door are suburban birds. They're not as shy as the birds in Texas. The birds in Texas came out of the forest, though many of the birds were born in nests in our garage. The birds in New Mexico will sit on the fence and on top of the shrub, waiting for me to fill the food dish with seed. They are even closer to the house than the flock in Texas was, but they are comfortable, which is a good thing.

Sometimes the sparrows chatter like the little birds in Texas, but it's a bit colder here, and most of the time they sit and stare at me, the dogs, and each other, their feathers fluffed up so they look like little balls on top of leaves.

There is something magical about watching birds hop around each other, look at each other, chatter to each other. Sometimes, you can almost understand what they are saying, especially when they are paired with a mate.

This morning, I watched a male eating in the seed dish while the female waited patiently on the rock wall, then suddenly he turned and looked right at her and made a quick, soft sound. He jumped to the opposite side of the brick leaving a space for her to join him. She hopped onto the brick and they ate their breakfast together.