The cedar waxwing is one of my favorite birds. Smooth with pretty markings make it particularly attractive. I hadn't seen one in the valley for quite a few years, since the beaver dams were abandoned. But on this day, I became quite acquainted with them.It was bitterly cold that morning. So cold, it seemed the world had frozen. There was no sound. No wind. I chose to hunt from a tree stand far away from the house so I could warm up on my way there. And it was on a south facing slope so I would catch the earliest rays of sunshine on this clear crisp morning. For those of you who know the valley, it was near the "upper gate". The oppressively heavy cold air even pushed the chimney smoke down to the ground and it drifted down the valley floor. As daylight broke, I saw just one lone doe stiffly walking through the cold looking for a breakfast that might get her blood going. But the sun did break over the horizon shortly and it quickly began to warm, and the cedar waxwings began to flock in for a breakfast of bush honeysuckle and autumn olive berries. The enjoyment of their company was short lived however as dozens upon dozens sat in the tree above me, and promptly dropped their eaten fruit remains on my head. And my clothes. And my bow.
1 comment:
I'm glad that the birds didn't have to die too. ;)
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