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| Spring moon over new place: Starry Meadow farm |
"Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could.
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good."
Nothing ever could.
So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good."
lyrics from the song “Something Good”
When I was young, I gave my
younger brother 5 cents for each sparrow nestling he turned over to me. Nestlings that my Dad paid him 5 cents to find,
catch and kill. I got a playhouse full of hungry, baby sparrows to feed.
And he got paid twice for each job.
My brother grew up to be a fine businessman. I grew up to be tolerant of sparrows. The number of sparrows I raised as a kid pales in comparison to the hundreds of sparrows that shared porch space, after I grew up and married. My husband and I lived in an old farm house embraced by ancient wisteria
vine. Some years the wisteria was voluptuous and fragrant.
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| Photograph by Nicole Franzen for Gardenista |
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| 100 year old Wisteria vine on farmhouse of Oregon View Farm |
Many summers it was mostly a sparrow condominium, dripping whitewash and other dirt: dried grass, leaves, sticks and all the junk that house sparrows constantly drag in to repair their poorly constructed nests.
Whenever the farmer and I talked about
chopping the wisteria down, it was either spring when lavender blossoms drenched
the air with enough perfume to erase sparrow angst, or summer when green tendrils cradled all the nests. I’d
remember those pin- feathered orphans, mouths gaping at my every movement,
and I’d
always say wait until next spring.
Then we'll rid ourselves of this pestilence.
Then we'll rid ourselves of this pestilence.
I'd complain half the summer as I raked sparrow dirt from my flower beds and washed grit and bird droppings from windowsills.
In my better moments, I'd sing.
"I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow....'
And for awhile I'd feel good about all the living, eating, pooping, chirping sparrows.
Recently, we left that wisteria vine and moved to another farm in Singers Glen, VA. This new place is gorgeous in an open pasture, rolling hill, cedar siding house surrounded by woods kind of way.
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| Fuchsia hanging on my porch now, rather than wisteria! |
Not like the manicured yards and beautiful flower gardens of Pennsylvania.
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| My beloved trees and garden at Oregon View Farm |
And, amazingly, there are no house sparrows here. Moments of homesickness are eased by the delightful plethora of birds at my feeders after years of feeding mostly pigeons, doves and sparrows. We see cute chipping sparrows, song sparrows, sparrows of white throat and white crown, but not
one
house sparrow!
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| Indigo Buntings at our feeder |
Every day
brings
elated discoveries of feather and song.
Towhees, Indigo Buntings, Rose Breasted Grosbeaks, Goldfinches, Purple Finches, Flickers, 6 varieties of woodpeckers....
We order the days by the number of times we
grab camera or binoculars.
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| Turkey strutting in our back meadow |
What have I done to deserve all this wonder?
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| Redheaded Woodpecker |
I
asked the farmer that question while we sat watching the sunset from our porch at the close of one glorious 20-binocular day. He grinned. We instantly remembered all the squawking, dirty sparrows of our former life.
If this is bird karma,
payback for all the love I bestowed upon sparrows
long ago,
we'll take it!!
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| Lilacs in background - Redheaded Woodpecker |
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| Redheaded Woodpecker |
