A TEENSY HELPFUL NUDGE

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Gentle Readers, please relax, in spite of the day/date.

You must remember that triskaidekaphobia is only a superstition.

Nothing to worry about just because it's Friday the 13th.

After all what can happen?

Well, yes, there is that.

But let us persevere and move on to some jocularity.

Oh sure but can he/she do the Downward Dog?

While you're pondering that, Gentle Readers and Yoga Practitioners, let me wish you a scintillating weekend full of frolicking among the flowers.

And always remember to keep laughing.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

(Hmmm, a bit of a tight fit . . .)

THE BIRDS

The Weather Gods say today is going to be very windy here, with gusts up to and over 50 miles per hour.

Maybe that's why the birds have been visiting our birdbath in droves this morning.

I have observed a robin(!) who stopped on the ground facing me and stared for a second, then used the bird bath for what it's named.

Then in rapid succession I had a mockingbird, the first I'd seen this year, house finches, the Say's Phoebe and one of our local doves.

They all seem to appreciate the water, whether for drinking or bathing.

Since this is ThrowBack Thursday, I thought I'd include a better photo of a robin in the birdbath.

Same birdbath, same modus operandi, different location, at least a year ago.

And, BTW, the BRD completed another trip around the sun yesterday.

So, happy bird-day girl.

(NOT) A ROBIN

A fairly frequent visitor to Catalyst's Watering Hole could be mistaken for a robin.

But his rosy-hued breast is not nearly as bright as a robin's.

And he's a tad smaller than those big bullies.

Searching Sibley's "Birds of the Arizona Central Highlands I have identified him as a Say's Phoebe.

He's quite a thirsty fellow and when he visits spends quite a well either at the fountain or pecking around for insects in the yard.

He was named after Thomas Say, a 19th Century naturalist who was born into a Quaker family in Pennsylvania.

Say spent time in the offshore islands of Georgia and Florida, and on exploratory missions to the Rocky Mountains and the tributaries of the Missouri River.

He married and lived in the utopian society of New Harmony, Indiana, where he died at the age of 47, apparently of typhoid fever.

But the bird named after him lives on.

Say's Phoebe.

A NEW LOOK

We're in the perfect months of Spring right now in Arizona but summer is on the way.

The climate has changed a bit where we live.

It's just about a mile high in elevation.

Like Denver.

But being closer to the equator, i.e. further south, it gets warmer.

It used to get to 100 degrees Fahrenheit maybe one or two days in the summer.

But recently we've had stretches of that kind of heat that lasted weeks.

We used to live in Phoenix, back in the 70's and 80's.

Once the mercury climbed to 122 degrees.

That was in June of 1990 and we fortunately were living in Guadalajara, Mexico then.

Guadalajara is known as the place with eternal springtime.

But if you want true heat you have to travel about 360 miles west-northwest from here.

To Furnace Creek, in the heart of Death Valley.

It got to 134 degrees there once upon a time.

I got to wondering what I might look like if I had spent my life as a roving, gold-hunting prospecter in Death Valley.

Maybe like this.

I guess I'll stick to my sedentary ways, out of the direct sunlight.

And the heat.

TWEET TWEET

I TOLD you the birds were going to be happy about that tree leafing out, didn't I?

Oh, I know.  

When you saw the title on this post you were expecting something about the Donnie in D.C., weren't you?

Nope.

No politics.

Just bird talk.

SPRING IS BUSTING OUT ALL OVER

The tree outside my window, which has been a barren forest of branches all winter, is finally heavily abounding in buds.

It's not a flowering tree but it will soon be filled with green leaves, judging from the looks of things.

The birds can barely wait.