The Wood Thrush
A wood thrush darts in my drive.
He scurries right, left, then right again.
His head is bowed low.
His body is straight.
He is a speeding arrow.
Abruptly, the thrush brakes.
A sentry guarding his post looks both ways.
Suddenly, he dashes under the hedge.
I hear persistent scratching.
The thrush is relentlessly raking leaves.
What hidden treasure is he seeking in the dirt?
I enjoyed watching this wood thrush so much. He was hilarious! He would dive under the hedges, search for his treasure and then fly away. About five minutes later, he would be back again and the whole scene would play out again. Maybe he was gathering food for babies and taking it back to the nest. I don't know. But, he was being very cautionary!
I suppose my love for our little winged friends came from my parents. They feed them, provide houses for them, and even go out another door when the swallows that make a nest on their kitchen porch (every year!) have babies in the nest.
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To the Maker of man, beast and bird - Thank you for creating the birds whose wonderful songs fill the air and whose antics bring me and my family so much enjoyment. ~ Amen
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