In my last post about #myyardbirds, I showed you Bandito, a mountain chickadee who eats peanuts out of my hand.
What did I start? Have I gotten myself into mucho trouble?
What happened this week began last Spring. Black-capped chickadees nested in our blue spruce, with three chicks for which I provided the parents meal worms, major protein, to help the younglings grow.
Went out on the front deck one morning, could hear one tweeting like a conspiracy-nut, but couldn’t see it. Until I saw it lodged in the chollo cactus, like totally trapped by the barbs.
With wife Carmen’s help, a towel and large tweezers, we freed her, pulled splines out and she lived, tho she bears a scar on her belly.
I named her Brava, and she’s been the most tolerant of my presence of all @myyardbirds. Last week, she took a giant leap, after watching Bandito feeding from my hand.
Gradually, she grew less anxious about landing on my hand to get the cacahuates and then even chased away Bandito when she was ready for them.
Then her behavior almost knocked me over.
She now sometimes sits on my fingers, but not just to eat. Twice now she’s sat for 3–5 minutes, looking at me. Doesn’t say much, she just examines, wonders, thinks—I have no idea what.
I can even move her around to the window so Nietos can see her and so she can see them. And she doesn’t fly off. At times, she’s almost outlasted my patience.
So, below is proof of our communing, some people might call it. I don’t have a name for it yet. But it does remind me of the colibrís who cavort with shaman Tomás, playing Blind Man’s Bluff and such in my 2nd novel, a YA Chicano Fantasy/SF. Which you can read about this spring when it’s published: rchgarcia.com