“hey. hey. hey where’d you go”

So, my spouse and I went to an out-of-town family shindig the weekend before July 4th. It was a lot of fun — there was a ton of food, live music, and a huge crowd of interesting people to talk to (many of whom are also Garden People like me).

When I came back, the yard was silent. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Was it because I wasn’t there to keep the food and water replenished? Was it the fireworks? Had someone gotten injured or killed, scaring the whole murder away?
Did something happen to Boink?

I put fresh water and the usual mix of food (peanut butter cereal, cat kibble, dried bugs, and berries) out, but all I got was a clamorous mob of starlings.

(Apparently a group of starlings can be called an “affliction,” which sounds about right. I love all of the birds that come to my home, but most of these are, to put it bluntly, invasive shrieking dickheads who throw things.)

A day went by, then another. I lost sleep and felt my urge to write or paint completely sapped. So much of my art is inspired by these magnificent little weirdos, I hated the idea of working on a painted bird when the real ones had disappeared.

Then this happened.

The crows returned by having this guy rock up to the bathroom window (please ignore the spots on the glass — the rain and pollen have fingerpainted everything) and stare inside. They twisted their head from one side to the other, very deliberately peering in. If they had hands, they probably would’ve cupped them around their eyes to see better.

It was funny, but, in retrospect, also somewhat concerning. Did they watch us leave? Did they send someone to stare into our house every day to see if we were back yet? There are so many windows, you guys, why did they pick the bathroom?!

Anyhow, the big maple tree is once again filled with raucous caws and shiny black birds. I’ve seen Magni and Muse, and even Boink has once again taken up his position on top of the shed. (I have no idea where — or how, for that matter — he went for several days at a time. I’m just glad he’s back.)

It does my heart good to see them. I just kind of wish they’d maybe peeked in the kitchen instead.