sometimes...

Sometimes it feels like there is a dark cloud that follows me around... yeah, sorry, that's the best analogy I have.

I imagine that people visit this blog for something light or whimsical or pretty or entertaining or because it happened to pop up in your reading list or something. And right now I just don't have any of that in me.

Truth be told, it's been kind of a dark week. The kind of week where I'd just like to crawl into bed and not have to bother to get up or put on presentable clothes or go to work or run errands or do housework. Ironically, every time I go to bed, I wake up after 5-6 hours, and then I'm wide awake - in that I'm a bit of a zombie on less than 8 hours of sleep. I finally broke out the sominex a week ago, and let's just say I woke up feeling like zombie to the power of zombie... but I did sleep for like 8 hours uninterrupted. You know, and then woke up in a fog.

The bluebird babies died last week.

That was hard. They shouldn't have died, but those fucking invasive european house sparrows were in the yard - and they took over the nest and killed the babies.

I knew something wasn't right when I stood at the window and peered into the backyard with the binoculars and neither the male or female bluebird were going in and out of the nest box... and sure enough, the baby birds were dead...

So, since the sparrows thought they were going to use the other nest box after killing the bluebird babies, I destroyed their nest.

The bluebirds have left, and for days the male sparrow has sat out there in the yard calling and calling for a female.

European house sparrows have the most annoying call of any bird short of robins or starlings. And even though the weather is in the seventies and eighties - I can't bear to sit in the house and listen to the god damned bird that murdered my baby bluebirds sitting out there in the yard calling out for a mate...

So, the trap went up in the box. I hope to cease to hear that noise soon.

In North America — European house sparrows are an alien invasive species. They were brought here by morons, and once here - they never leave. They don't migrate, they just kill off our natural species. I despise european house sparrows.

The nest in the early stages... before the hatchlings were killed.

Anyway, I'd like to open the windows and let in some fresh air. And hopefully that time will come again soon.

In the mean time, the house wren has taken up residence in the nest box in the front yard.

House wrens are notoriously chatty little birds. So, all day the male and female are out there singing up a storm (it sounds like this). Wrens are a little better at fighting back against nest predation than the bluebirds, firstly because they build their nest out of sticks instead of grasses. When I go out and check the nest boxes and I find them filled with sticks — I know there's a wren in the area. Wrens are also smaller - so while they can easily maneuver through their mess of sticks, nest box predators cannot.

So, I guess, at least I still have the wrens... the wiley crazy chatty wrens. Well, that and there seems to be a cardinal nesting in the yard as well.

The ruby-throated hummingbirds have also returned, at least I've seen a male around the yard. I went out to get the mail last week and happened to look up at the defunct tv antenna, and yes, high up there that little bird was perched - surveying the yard, and probably waiting for me to go back indoors. Of course, I promptly made up a batch of what I will refer to sardonically as bird kool-aid. Hummingbird food is 1 cup of water to 1/4 cup of sugar. Boil the water, dissolve the sugar, let it cook and put it out in a feeder.

Of course, so I rush outside with the feeder - but my hummingbird is more interested in some annuals, the coral bells, and the weigela bush.

Of course, eventually, the backyard should be filled with the sound of tiny hummingbird cries as they return North in order to fight over the ample amount of food in the feeder on the back porch...

Birds... what territorial little creatures.

Anyway, hopefully my metaphorical dark cloud lifts soon... I'm tired of this funk.

Tomorrow's Gonna Be a Brighter Day — Jim Croce