The gray sky might have dampened the spirits of those of us of the human persuasion, but it didn’t seem to bother the birds at all. Even with so little sunshine there were birds in my garden and on my porch all day long. I walked out the front door this afternoon and was serenaded by a house finch in the birch tree. He sang and sang, and puffed his chest and cocked his head. Whatever was on his mind must have been so compelling that my presence didn’t disturb him.

I did disturb the pair of orioles that were around for the first time this year. I was walking back from getting the mail, and they were in the bush just inside the fence. When I came around the corner, they screeched and groused and took off in a great fluttering of bright yellow and black wings. They were loud and colorful, but too timid to stick around.

As I was sitting and watching the ballgame this afternoon, I was also watching the swallows darting in and out and around the beams on my back porch. My swallows almost always fly so high over the yard that I have to identify them by their distinctive flight patterns and tail feathers. For once they were so close that I could almost look them in the eye.

I’ve mentioned before that I love swallows for the pure joy they seem to have in the very act of flying. That’s the way I’d be, I think, if I could fly. Just happy to be doing it.

The little birds didn’t seem to be disturbed by the turkey vultures circling low over the estate. At times the buzzards would fly so low that their wingtips would brush against the high grasses (that I still haven’t had a chance to cut). With the smaller birds darting over and under the buzzards’ wings, it was like being in the middle of a George Lucas battle scene.