Bird Count Lament—December 2013
'Twas the day of the Bird Count and all through the snow,
Not an avian was stirring, not even a crow.
The Willow Oak tree, barren of leaves,
Held only squirrels shooting the breeze.
I got my binoculars, my coat and my hat.
Outside my house was my neighbor's fat cat.
"Go away, shoo, scat—you're scaring the birds!"
She glared and just sat there as if she hadn't heard.
I went to the park—I might see a goose.
But not a feather in sight, just dogs on the loose.
I walked through the park, uphill and down,
Scanning the skies, searching the ground,
Under the shrubs, up in the trees,
But much to my woe, not a bird did I see.
Feeling dejected, I walked back to my house
To be met at the door by my non-bird-watching spouse.
"I didn't see birds," I said with chagrin.
"But your bird bath was busy," he said with a grin.
"The bird bath was busy?! What did you see?"
"Two jays, three robins, and one chickadee."
"Cheer-up, cheer-up," he said, as he grinned ear to ear.
"Don't feel downy-hearted, there's always next year!"
—Catherine La Tour, Arlington, Virginia © 2013