I have long been an avid admirer of our fine feathered friends. It does not matter really what form they come in. The dainty little finches that frolic together, frantically trying to get as much seed as they can possibly hold. Although their size is small they seem to be the most fearless. I have been blessed with both yellow and red ones. Each time I do my routine of filling the many feeders scattered throughout my yard, they continously chatter at me as if to be asking what took me so long. Rarely do they fly away while I am near. I am also blessed with an array of woodpeckers. A pair of downy woodpeckers live in the willow next the pond and also a pair of flickers. I love the variety of color they have. I am always sure to leave suet for them and occasionally fresh fruit or nuts. There are many others also who come and partake of the food that is always available to them. A multitude of sparrows as well as bluejays, cardinals, tufted titmouse, and so many more.
I even like the group of crows that come each day just at the right time. First one will come to check and make sure that there is food. Then he will call the others in. I have had some issues this winter with them though in regards to my suet cakes. The bullies like to take the entire cake out of the feeders I have with no tops. I thought this was impossible til one day when I stood and watched them do just that. Yet what can I say I am a sucker for any of earths creatures. With the winter being as harsh as it has been it has been hard for me to turn any of them away.
I have noticed that their morning songs are much louder as of late. They are singing as soon as the sun begins to peek on the horizon and continue throughout the day. This is a classic sign that the mating ritual has begun. Even the ducks have joined the act. A group of 5 frequent my pond each morning. Four strapping drakes and one bashful hen. There must be something special about her to warrant 4 drakes to follow her constantly trying to attain her attention.
Most birds begin to lay their eggs in early March. Some can lay as many as 9 at one time. There are many legends of the birth of the world that go along with the egg. One which is one of my favorites is of Finnish origin. It tells that before time began, a pregnant virgin goddess of the water lifted her knee towards the surface of the ocean. A magical bird flying in the air gave to her seven eggs. Six of the eggs were golden and the last egg was iron. The virgin returned to the water and soon after the eggs began to open. All the contents of the eggs began to transform into items which eventually created the world. The membrane created the heavens, the yolk and white of the eggs rose and created the Sun and the Moon, all the little light colored pieces of the shells became the stars in the heavens and the dark pieces became the clouds.
Early alchemists at times referred to the egg as the philosopher's egg (similiar to the philosopher's stone). They equated the shell with the earth element, the thin membrane between the shell and the egg as the air element, the white as water, and the yolk as fire, which when combines together became life.
So each morning as you look towards the east to greet the new day, and the music of the morning seems a bit more robust and lively. Remember it is the coming of spring in the air that you hear. The joining and/or mating of the many birds as well as others animals around to usher in yet another turn of the wheel of life.
