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Our feathered friends, birdbrains, and wingnuts

sleepy manner is so sweet and satisfying. He is turning 3 in August. Honored
I didn’t post about it here because it was so difficult and I was going through too much grief and shit but he passed away three weeks after I posted this. Suddenly, the way birds often do. And it was right when I was quitting an addiction that was the culmination of fifteen years of using. I linked his passing to my quitting, in a shamanic way. He took the suffering of the addiction with him. He had been with me closely during the three years at the end of my addiction which were the worst in terms of how much I was using. And he was with me through the disordered eating and the most difficult parts of recovering my self. He was a powerful and gentle teacher.
Here’s a picture of the hen turkey strutting. I was bandaging the feet of a chicken with bumble foot and one of the turkey hens plopped down in front of me asking for pets. I had my music on and I think that’s what triggered the strut because she usually gets triggered by whistling, so it might be a certain high pitched tone. Anyway, cute! You can tell they are both hens because their snoods are tiny. The snood is the thing that hangs over the tom’s beak and can get long and short.
@Friday 🥹💖 that is absolutely precious.

“My” owl has a partner and he called out as I was walking by the giant tree (full daylight but late afternoon) and she responded, so that’s how I knew there were two and I saw her on a nest! Put a huge smile on my face! I like to think we’re friends now and he was showing off his family ☺️.
@DharmaGirl sweet! I would love to see a line up of your girls! The silver laced polish is called Maple and the Americauna is called Sun.

I noticed that our two polish chickens have a different kind of clucking sound, reminds me of Chewbacca, kind of a chortling sound—they still do the egg song but their clucking sounds are more like a chortle. Did you notice yours having a different cluck?

Some time I’ll try to post pics of our individual chickens—we have 8.
Did you notice yours having a different cluck?
OMG, yes! They scream one loud noise. They say, "wrack, wrack, wrack" when they want treats. They have a wonderful burble when they are "helping" me garden. I just love Polish hens. The roosters are often nutcases though. I have several Americanas (Easter Eggers) as well as a few Ameraucanas. They are a bit standoffish because they were raised by their mamas, but Zelda and Cinnabun are friendly and sweet. I'll try and get some pictures. I had a cross beak Polish named Trixie who was a pet and passed away 3 days ago. I fed her separately from the other so she could have mash and not worry about fighting for food.
Today when I walked by the owl nest on my way to the park with pup I saw a little head quickly go down. No parent on the nest. Then when I returned I saw a parent sitting on a branch close to the nest. Hadn’t thought about how they don’t always stay on the nest with the babies when they return—for some reason it’s cute and intimate to me that they need breaks from their babies.

Remembering a hamster I had who stuffed the hole of the nesting box with material so the babies couldn’t get out and then slowly ate in peace outside the nest box.

When I had babies I had no concept of time to myself, and in general had no concept of that with respect to my ex. Because of the messed up relations with my parents.

But I’m better now, thankfully. Rambling…

Those owls are grounding and magical at the same time for me.
Today when I passed the nest at sunset a parent and the baby were in it both looking down at me. I saw the parent first. Solidly staring as my eyes sorted through the branches and leaves to find them, waiting for me it seemed.

I wasn’t sure if the lump next to it was a baby, but slowly I made out the ghostly visage—so surprising was the face of the baby! Looked sort of like a goblin-y skull of a human with eyes. Last time the baby saw me the parent wasn’t there so it quickly pulled its head down. Now with the parent there, it didn’t pull its head down but only looked at me a short time then kept burying its head into its parent’s fluffy neck, like a shy child in the presence of a strange adult, and the parent held my gaze with such solidity that eventually I became almost embarrassed and walked away with such a smile emanating from my being. Pup seemed so pedestrian then, with his predictable sniffing and regular body.

That was my first time ever seeing an owl chick other than the time it pulled its head down. They really do look eerie. No feather horns yet like its parent. Floofy white down feathers on its head but I saw it nervously rustle its wings which already had big flight feathers. It was half the size of its parent. I think there’s only one chick.

I used to do wildlife rehab and I would see the bird chicks in the incubators, mostly sparrows and scrub jays and crows, never saw an owl but sometimes a hawk chick. And that was thrilling, for sure.

But seeing the chick and parent in their habitat, doing their own life—me the peeping Tom, but maybe they’re letting me in as a gift… has a healing effect on me. Hard to quantify. Has to do with connection. And something much much bigger than politics, than history, than science, than podcasts, than psychology even, I think. It’s so primal. Like a kind of brain reset.

In that string of moments, I’m with them and they’re with me, in a very limited way but a very real way. Pure, authentic. The way the parent, driven by hormones and the force of all evolution, to bring forth life in that chick, mouse after mouse after mouse brought back to it—the way that parent stared at me, unapologetically, pure vitality, buffets my soul somehow.
Saw both of the babies today through binoculars. They have rings of adult feathers around their eyes, and little tiny feather horn buds. Their flight feathers are still sheathed but breaking through. They stared at me and my daughter for a long time. They are getting bolder. I went to the park and when I came back they were still without their parent. One was restlessly moving around the nest, picking at things. I saw it’s big plump downy body. It seemed a bit bored. Soon they will begin to adventure out from the nest with their parents and begin their hunting lessons.
My buddy flew out the door last week. He didn't mean to, his intention was to land on my shoulder. In a bit of chaos I lowered because of the dog, and my cockatiel flew over me instead. The dog startled him and flew further and circled a bit. I don't know where he is at now, and I miss him greatly. I hope he is okay.