Four Colly Birds! Or Maybe Just One..

  Well, the tree is all decorated, the mantles are ready for the stockings to be hung and garland is strung on the stair rail.  That is about the extent of my decorations this year.  I have called it quits in hopes that now I can rest a bit.  Today, I repacked the unused decorations to be stowed away for the next few weeks until this all starts in reverse.  As I was repacking the boxes, I came across one ornament that just screamed to be let out of the box and on display.  A tiny, plastic blackbird could not be hidden away in the piles of tinsel...it just would not be Christmas without it. 

  The tiny blackbird was gifted to me by my cousins.  It was on their Christmas Tree that I always remember seeing the blackbirds.  In a way, I sort of grew up at my Aunt Marie and Uncle Alfred's place.  I was there about as much as I was at home.  Every year, the blackbirds made an appearance on the tree and yet, I knew nothing about them other than the fact that I really liked them.

  While I do not know the history behind the little bird, I do know that Christmas just would not be the same without it.  How the birds became a family tradition or even where they were purchased remains a mystery with me and is one I should definitely ask one of my cousins.  All of this got me to thinking....why blackbirds at Christmas?  So a bit of detective work began. 

  It seems that this may have started way back around 1780 when the words to the European verse "The Twelve Days of Christmas" were penned.  At first, this was not a song but sort of a rhyme.  The twelve days actually refer to the twelve days AFTER Christmas and not before as we now believe.  The original verse states that there were four colly birds and not calling.  This changed over the year until finally the song has become the (almost irritating after the two billionth time of hearing it) song we all know.  It seems that not too many folks realized what colly birds were even at the beginning so the word evolved to calling birds.  Now to set the record straight, colly birds are actual birds.  Well, sort of actual birds.  Colly is a regional European word for sooty or grimy such as one might describe a chimney sweep (not to be confused with a Chimney Swift bird).  In the song, the word is used in reference to the European Blackbird (which is not a blackbird at all but rather is in the Thrush family).  Such fun! But now you know!

 I sat holding the little plastic blackbird and was transported back in time to the Christmas holidays of days past.  I remember the pine tree that Uncle Alfred would steady up in the living room with nails and string and I remember helping Margaret hang the ornaments on the tree while Aunt Marie was in the kitchen stirring up something delicious.  I do, indeed, have fond memories of times there. 

Nevermore!

Ok, so Edgar Allan Poe was writing about the lost love of Lenore and was supposedly talking to a raven but the word rather fit the photographs of today. Maybe not though, since this was redwing blackbirds, not ravens and there was not a dearly departed Lenore. But somehow, the scene reminded me of Poe's poem..odd? Yes, but the fact remains that it did and I have been reciting the poem in my head since this morning..

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. Over many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 'Tis some visitor', I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-only this and nothing more.' "

This has been going through my head all day..I do not ever remember actually having to learn the poem..it is just one of those weird things that pops in the head and is impossible to shake out! I do know that it is not exactly a poem that I would recite at Christmastime..Halloween, maybe..but Christmas?

I had just filled the feeders for the birds this morning and set a few pans of seed on the ground for the doves, when I heard the fluttering of wings. I was happy to think that the doves were already settling in for breakfast before I had even reached the house. I turned to look at the feeders...whoa! Not doves but blackbirds.. redwinged blackbirds.. everywhere! There was probably a good twenty-five or thirty of the ebony birds happily devouring every seed in sight. I stood watching them, snapping a few pictures.. so that is who has been stealing the birdseed before my doves could eat! A never-ending stream of blackbirds was fluttering out of the marsh.. all straight for my feeders. Then suddenly.. none.. they had made a hasty retreat to the oak trees. Confused by this behavior, I watched. What had happened? They were eating so happily one minute and the next they were sitting silently in the branches. Thinking maybe Ms Put had made an appearance or perhaps a raccoon wandered in, I peered through the rose bushes. I saw nothing..still the birds did not return. Then the shadow..ahh..that question was

answered! Just above the trees, a hawk circled round and round the feeders. It was hunting breakfast, too! The buffet had been set with blackbirds for a few minutes but was now bare. I stood admiring the hawk until it soared off over the Bayou searching for some other prey. It had missed its chance at the "Blackbird Buffet". As soon as it was "All Clear" the blackbirds were back with a vengeance! They stayed until all the feeders were empty and then back to the marsh! My poor doves had waited patiently but to their disappointment, nothing was left for them. I hastily refilled the feeders and pans and scooted back indoors as I was quickly getting chilled.

It was cold this morning, I have to admit that. The trek to the pier was one of frost and ice. All along the marsh edge was a thin layer of ice. Again, the north wind had pushed the tide out well past the pier leaving little frozen tide pools on the mudflats. Out on the flats, searching for their breakfast were several Killdeers. These small birds were running about screeching at each other and any other intruder..me! I have been hearing them at night doing the same screeching..it seems they never sleep! (Nor do they want me to sleep!) I like these little birds but I do wonder about their name..Killdeer. Hopefully, they are named after some guy that discovered them and not for some bizarre habit they have of going around killing hapless deer! Some cold, rainy day, that might be a good research project..find out how they got their names! Killdeer...hmmph!