Wildewood walks offer treats, every time.
So there were three Northern Mockingbirds having an early morning discussion. (Hmmm. That sounds like the beginning of a joke. It's not. Though you'll be amused, I think.)
I thought I'd show you how our wildlife neighbors chat.
All of a sudden, one did this.
I even thought this gesture was meant to scare me. But then, I have a long lens and I wasn't on their immediate radar or disturbingly closeby. This lively discussion was between them.
THEN! One puffed up like this just before...
it did a determined march forward, or so I thought. What do you think?
When a topic or issue is raised, I expect multiple opinions. I wasn't surprised to read that some people don't think the Northern Mockingbird should be the State Bird for reasons such as this bird doesn't ring as a welcome-to-Florida type bird and that there are better choices, like the Spoonbill Roseate.
Maybe.
Okay okay. Back to the mockingbird.
I read that in the 19th century "people kept so many mockingbirds as cage birds that the birds nearly vanished from the East Coast." Why did they keep them in cages? to enjoy the songs they sing! Mockingbirds "continually add new sounds to their repertoires throughout their lives." They sing all day and into the night, especially during a full spring moon. Those singers are usually unmated males (All About Birds).
Longing to hear their melodious sounds? No need to cage a bird when we have files like THIS. OR, if you're in Florida—just walk out your door and listen. Such sweetness, especially when a sunset glows orange on birdie.
Yes, that is sunset light on its breast and neck. How orange was the sun that night? This orange.
I was driving on Manatee Avenue from the Anna Maria. I pulled over to look out and up with this Blue Heron. The date is October 20, 2018—Halloween eve. I kid you not. You might faint when I tell you that this photo is not color enhanced. That is earth in all its outrageously orangeness.
Okay okay. Back to the mockingbird.
One more.
Here is a mocker I photographed while on Stout Island in the Florida Keys. Bird perched still and quiet. I watched for about twenty minutes. Not one song. So sweet and a bit confusing. I had to confirm its identity with a birding group.
NOTE: Unless otherwise noted, I take these photographs. If you use them, please link with love and note my name, Susan Michael Barrett. xo
