I recently chatted with the owner of the local birdfeeding supply store. What a great place... "Backyard Birding" on West Railway St. in Abbotsford. It's one of the few good things about this godforsaken "city in the country." (More like "the city clearcutting every mountain in sight and loading it with unspeakably ugly suburban monstrosities!" There's a reason I call it "Anusford." But I'm not bitter, I'm not bitter at all. .)
Sorry, I digressed. Anyhoo (is anyone reading this drivel anyway?) Cliff (owner) told me that someone brought in a nest box with four dead chickadee babies in it. This was not done in order to gross out Cliff, but to show that the chickadees around here are already nesting! The babies did not survive the ensuing cold snap. This nestbox incident occurred in late January. I live in the Mediterranean of Canada. Nova Scotian chickadees would never be foolish enough to consider building a nest in JANUARY. Insanity!
Life around our birdfeeders has been reasonably normal lately. We haven't seen the Barred owl since he ate half our goldfish at Christmas, and I haven't noticed the sharp-shinned hawk picking off any juicy songbird delights lately. We've got the usual bunch of pine siskins, chickadees (regular and chestnut-backed), song sparrows, white- and gold-crowned sparrows, Steller Jays, red-winged blackbirds, house finches and whatever else I've forgotten. Oh yeah, juncos. I forgot the juncos. They are ubiquitous throughout the winter, but I'm quite fond of them.
There was a mosquito in our bathroom this week. What the hell does that mean? I wonder if it's a malarial one we brought back from Cambodia?
The goldfish are doing okay, the five adults and innumerable babies that weren't picked off by Mr. Owl. I note that some of the larger babies are now turning from dull brown to goldfish orange. Ah, the children are growing up.
I have to do some work....