Page 91 - Dark Matter:Women Witnessing Issue #3 - December 2015

Dark Matter: Women Witnessing - December, 2015 Issue #3 - EXTINCTION / DEVOTION

TURNING POINT

Marilyn DuHamel

It is too quiet at my house. The songbirds are gone. Really, they are gone. I think they died. I may have

killed them.

Before

On the patio just out my bedroom door there is a residential

version of a savannah watering hole, my joy and offering

during these parched years of Californian drought. A large

green bowl I fill with water each day sits next to an iron

birdbath, leaf-shaped, just steps away from a hanging

cylindrical feeder chock full of sunflower seeds and millet.

Each morning, warm under my covers, I look out on this

scene, curious who will be the first to arrive. Usually a few

juncos beat the scrub jays but once the jays come

everyone decides it is off limits until these blue rowdies

leave.

The chipmunks don’t seem to care. Pretty cheeky themselves, they scurry under the swinging feeder,

scrambling after spillage from messy jays who, filled for the moment, squawk their exit, which is eagerly

anticipated by the varied audience in surrounding shrubs.

Juncos are the first to sweep back to vacated perches. Chickadees, sparrows, and pine siskins grasp

nearby branches. A few stand demurely in line on the redwood railing until one frustrated onlooker

finally darts in an attempt to dislodge that junco that has been there a very long time.

I muse from the comfort of my bed about these arrangements. Is there a protocol? Some avian code

of ethics? Meanwhile, though the air is chill, small yellow warblers crowd the birdbath and sparrows

turn the green bowl into a spa. One, then another, takes a turn to squat, splash, flap and ruffle.

Page 89 of 218