This weekend counts for the birds.

First of all, this weekend is the Great Backyard Bird Count. Please join in. It only takes about 15 minutes.

Next, although not in our backyard, we noted a pair of bald eagles back in their warm weather roost, on the East side of I-35 just north of the Hugo exit.

bald eagle mating flight?

Photo by J. Harrington

Closer to our back yard, but not quite there yet, we saw a flock of wild turkeys working their way into the woods on the North side of County 36, east of the Carlos Avery pools.

Since we've thus far been thwarted in our efforts to get the family into bee-keeping, today we took a lazy man's way out. We bought a kit to build a native bee house. Since honey bees are predominantly a commercial product, and aren't indigenous to North America, we actually feel better about doing something to support native bees. We'll post the results as we build and hang the kit and watch for occupants.

female bluebird, early April

Photo by J. Harrington

This is also the Spring when we're due to move the purple martin house that's usually occupied by tree swallows. Last Summer they managed to drive off a pair of bluebirds using a nest box we hadn't set up far enough from the martin house. We hadn't had that problem in prior years but we'd just as soon not have it happen again. The ground needs to thaw before we can transplant the martin house so that'll be a few weeks at least.

Last but not least, the Better Half thinks she wants to start raising chickens. The sitings of eagles and turkeys occurred on our return from a trip to St. Paul to check some potential sources. This could be a very interesting Summer, once we make it past Spring thaw.

                     When the sun returns

By Sarah Browning

it is hallelujah time,

the swallows tracing an arc

of praise just off our balcony,

the mountains snow-sparkling

in gratitude.

Here is our real life — 

a handful of possible peonies

from the market — 

the life we always intended,

swallow life threading

the city air with

our weaving joy.

Are we this simple, then,

to sing all day — country songs,

old hymns, camp tunes?

We even believe

the swallows, keeping time.

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