In case you’ve not yet
noticed, I’m just enjoying the spit out of my patio. I’m hoping that dowsing
all my tomato plants with cayenne will keep marauding raccoons out of them. (So
far, so good, after one nearly rip cherry tomato disappeared in toto, not just
pecked at or nibbled on. So I had to Take Measures.)
But beyond the prospect
of summer eats, I’m getting such a kick out of the little critters who come to
visit.
Except for the
squirrels. I could do without them. And the bully birds.
(Interesting about
those: there’s a species of black bird—smaller than crows, but still fairly
sizeable as birds go—that just gobbles up the seed. I mix in a lot of safflower
seed, which they don’t like, but they still come by. However, they’re very
easily frightened—just like human bullies. Yesterday, I was sitting in my chair
when one of them landed on a branch at the edge of the patio. I just pointed at
it and it flew away. Hand to God, I just raised my arm straight out, with
finger pointed, and it scarpered.)
Well, but there are a
couple of little chipmunks that like to eat the seed that the birds shovel onto
the ground. (Seriously, they thrust their little beaks into the seed and just
scatter it all over the place. Don’t even seem to be trying to eat.) I adore
watching them.
He was joined by this
cardinal:
I hardly need
subscription TV.
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