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The trouble with noticing particular animals or birds is that when they disappear you are left wondering what became of them.
When last year’s Notso vanished, I had a good idea where she had gone, a comforting story that had some validity.
Cowbirds lay their eggs in other bird’s nests, so when an odd bird remained after the migrators flew off, we figured she thought herself a sparrow and she lived happily among them in our hedge, the Not-so-sparrow.
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Cowbirds are short-distance migrators and when a flock came by, down by the state route, we wondered if Notso would go to join them, but she did not.
The next day a solitary male came up to the house and when he was gone, so was she. So I felt justified in believing he had come to collect her and I often think of her flying around happily with her “people”.
Mr Notso’s story is different, however.
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Cowbirds were quite scarce here this past summer, so we hardly noticed their Fall departure.
Then one day in early November, a single male turned up in the hedge.
That single male? Anything’s possible, but it’s unlikely.
The point is, we now had a Mr Notso.
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The sparrows welcomed him – mostly.
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Sometimes he was a bit domineering.
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“Listen mate, there’s more of us than you, so if you want to share our grub, try to be gracious, alright?”
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They kissed and made up.
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Then he was just one of the gang.
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Sparrow activity returned to its boisterous norm.
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“I say! I hope you’re not looking up my lady’s feathers!”
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It was lovely to have another Notso to look out for.
You always wonder if it’s sad for them to be the only one of their kind, but birds don’t think like us and Mr Notso had every appearance of being perfectly content.
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“Go on! Take a bath!”
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“Ooh, should I? You look cold.”
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“In fact…“
“You need beak to beak restart?”
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“No, mate. This is how sparrows bathe.”
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“That’s it! You’ve got the idea.”
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“Pool party!”
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This was just a few days ago.
I can’t say for sure that we saw Mr Notso yesterday, but he was certainly out there on Wednesday.
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Today he’s not been seen, which makes us feel he’s gone, though whether gone elsewhere or gone beyond, there is no way of knowing.
It’s poignant when they leave, but it isn’t about our feelings. All that matters is that wherever our little friends go, it’s what is best for them.
Thank you, Carolyn, for today’s delightful post and the wonderful, as always, photos. Your narrative is addictive because you have a talent for mimicking the way the birds “speak” just like people do. I like your devotion to the well-being of your friends!
Joanna
They were having a right old time there in the public baths!
I know what you mean about missing them. We had a regular visitor of a lovely-coloured Jay. But lately he hasn’t been around, and his spot seems to have been taken by a skittish Magpie. I was left hoping that the Jay is okay, and has just moved to a different garden to feed.
Best wishes, Pete.