Out My Kitchen Window

As I cook in the later afternoons I stand at my kitchen window and watch for Steve to move across the field and walk in and out of the barn. I like to watch him as he completes the barn chores. I watch the way he moves. The way he turns and talks to himself or a sheep or a goat or a guinea makes my tummy tickle.

As I watched yesterday, in the boxwood along the kitchen wall and partially covering one window, I saw another gentleman after Steve had left my line of site.

Through double pane glass, through the screen, I had trouble focusing on him. Eventually I did get a glimpse of him.

Mr. Redbird lives in my boxwood.

This boxwood stands the height of the first story of my house. It is a very large grand old shrub. Actually it is more like a tree in 99+ years of living than it is a shrub or a hedge.

Mr. Redbird lives there with several females. They often dart between the bush, the fence and the little water garden pond about 10 feet away. Their little beaks pecking to break the ice and take a quick sip of water.

I don't know if they nest in pairs. I should look that up. I am curious. I wonder if he is courting them all. Searching out the perfect Mrs. Redbird with whom he will spend his spring nesting and hatching eggs.

I only saw the one male flittering in the branches and chirping sweetly as three brown, less colorful Mrs. Redbirds sang back to him. I wonder which Lady sang back the sweetest and won his affections if only for Spring.