I read somewhere
It isn't spring until you see the first bluebird. Well, it is officially spring on my back porch. The male bluebird came to check out the seed cup, and sang in his rather raucous voice, then dashed away when he saw me, to sing loudly in the spruce tree in Charlie's back yard. Another feathered sign of spring is the persistant cooing of the ringneck doves flirting heavily with all the gal-doves in the neighborhood. The gals generally ignore the strutting and puffing and cooing. I planted some... Sign in to see full entry.