From my writing room, I have a view of the front garden. The sun is rising in a pale pink sky and peeks through my window, creating rainbows from the hanging prisms. It is here, in this magical place where I watch the panorama of nature unfold before me as an unseen observer.
This is the time of year when there are 30-40 lovebirds perched on the sprawling limbs of the Mesquite tree. Although in full view, they blend into the tree foliage but for their rosy peach cheeks. I can hear their distinctive chatter which is bright and gay; a raucous chorus. Among them, there is always at least one hybrid. Today it is the pale yellow one I call Butter. Because she is different, the others often scold and fuss at her but she holds her own, never backing down.
Within the flock that visits, there are at least a dozen new babies; I recognize them by the black spot on their beaks. I smile as two baby lovebirds flap their wings, trying to get their father’s attention. Papa bird relents and regurgitates food into the gaping mouth of the little ones. I marvel at both the father’s tenderness and the tenacity of the young ones, who are always hungry.
bright summer fledglings
learning to survive and thrive
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
dVerse Poets Pub: Monday- Lost and Found Nature’s Magic