The Wingkeeper

That I'm going to write a post without a picture will be very strange. It will be strange for me because I need to show in order to tell. But the fact is, there is no picture. There was only a shadow. I will try my best to tell you about the wingkeeper.

Yesterday was a beautiful, warm, sunny March day right here in the middle of Texas. My gardens and yard were calling to me for much needed grooming. But I just could not seem to get the energy to get started. I really just wanted to sit inside and watch the birds from my chair by the window as I had done all day Friday.

Finally, I put on some work clothes, my garden shoes and gloves and stepped out the back door. That's all it took. The warmth that greeted me was delicious. The first thing I needed to do was leaves. I leave them as long as I can hoping the March winds will carry them away but they mostly just blow and collect in the lower patio. Raking and gathering leaves takes a lot of energy and I take a lot of breaks in my chair swing that is a perfect place to watch the birds feed while I rest.

The red birds perch on the feeder and dine. The chickadees and titmouse land, grab a seed and flit to a branch to feast on the morsel found inside the shell. Then they come back for one more. And again and again. I watched a couple sparrows bully the red birds away. I witnessed male and female red birds courting. And the chickens come and scratch around under the feeder. But yesterday the wingkeeper was in the swing.

I was watching a titmouse flit around the feeder. She did her land and grab several times and then she came to a branch closer to me. I was very aware that she was looking at me. Then she hoped to a closer branch. Then closer. Then she came and lit on the swing chain about 15 inches from my face. She cocked her head from side to side just looking at me. I sat very still and looked at her. Then she fluttered to the back of the swing. Closer. She flew around to the chain on the other side. I turned my head and she cocked her head . We were eyeball to eyeball. And I knew what she wanted. So I sat as still as a cemetery statue and waited. She jumped on my head and began working. I'm sure she thought she had hit the jackpot of nesting material. She worked and worked and tried and tried to pull out my hair. In her frustration she stopped and pecked my head just like a woodpecker. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. But the neatest thing of all was that the sun was to my back and I could see the whole thing in a shadow on my leg. It looked as though she was getting quite a load of gray but when she left she had none. I went in the house and fetched my hair brush and put on the top of the feeder. After a few loads of leaves, I stopped for another break. Sure enough she came back and it all started again. Land and grab. Again and again. Then she spotted the hair brush. she took some of the hair and flitted to the ground. But instead of leaving she came to the swing. This time, she was quicker to jump on. She spent about five minutes each time trying her best to no avail. I wanted so badly to share, being the Wingkeeper and all.