A little late for the bus, but couldn’t resist Dominic Rivron's prompt this week.
Weirdly enough, while I was sitting in the kitchen writing the words on the egg (as you do) a small green bird smashed into the window. Maybe it resented the fact that I was only going to mention magpies.
When I got outside it slid to the ground, but as I was going back into the house it was sitting up, looking a bit dazed. Because I want this post to end on a happy note, I will not dwell on the cat, just emerging from his night’s sleep, who hadn’t as yet spotted it.
What a great picture to go along with a really interesting poem. It's a real feast because it challenges my perceptions of magpies and the fact that I think of them as unlucky even though that's supposed to apply to only one. Also I only think of Magpies taking shinny things or is that Jays?
ReplyDeleteBirds scare when they get into the house! They always seem bigger than they are outside. Especially magpies. I hope you eat that egg and are topfilled with stories.
ReplyDeleteWe went to a small odd zoo in Italy once that had a magpie in a cage as an exhibit...so strange.
ReplyDeleteLoved the egg :)
Aw, hope the little green bird recovered in time to escape from the cat.
ReplyDeleteDelightfully semi-surreal!
ReplyDeleteShades of Snoopy's Woodstock in that tale...you sure it wasn't yellow?
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Strangely ominous.A mystery.Must have been seven of them.
ReplyDeletefun fun fun.
ReplyDeleteI hope the bird made it. Can't be easy to fly with a concussion.
Love the hint of menace here.
ReplyDeleteGwei Mui, you're right - it's single magpies that are supposed to be unlucky, but there's something about a group of them chattering in a garden that makes me uneasy. Had the same thought about them going for shiny things, and then decided maybe it's Jackdaws that steal things?
ReplyDeleteJessica, I agree. Birds inside a house are terrifying. What I did with the egg was, I put it back in its box, then this evening I used it to make mayonnaise and ate it with fresh crab claws. Yum!
ReplyDeleteDomestic, that is very strange. I don't like magpies, but putting one in a cage?? Maybe in Italy they're a rarity?
ReplyDeleteNiamh B, you'll be glad to hear when I went to check on the bird a little later it was gone. There were no feathers, no eggs - nothing! So unless the cat is a very tidy eater, I'm guessing he made a break for it.
ReplyDeleteRachel, no. It was green. Definitely green. With maybe just a hint of yellow . . and a funny little cockatoo on top of its cute little head . . . ;)
ReplyDeleteTfe, there may well have been seven of them. There may even have been 97. And there may have been just one. It was indeed a mysterious event.
ReplyDeleteNanU, yes, I worried about concussion too. But there was no sign of him a few minutes later so I'm guessing he got away :)
ReplyDeleteArgent, thank you!
ReplyDeleteLove the egg, but it's the story that leaves me smiling. Here, Kitty, Kitty!
ReplyDeleteWhile in Dublin this May, I remarked to a cabdriver how beautiful the magpies were. We don't have those birds here in the States, well, at least nowhere that I've lived anyway. They really are amazing creatures.
ReplyDeleteMy kids and I spent hours (when they were small) watching a robin (a big fat robin) try to get off the ground. He never made it. We named him Fat Robin. At least he didn't crash into a window. Loved your story.
ReplyDeleteKaren, thanks for visiting. The Kitty was at death's door a few weeks ago, but has since made a miraculous recovery.
ReplyDeleteJeanne Iris, it's hard to imagine a world without magpies. They're none too popular in this neck of the woods - not too sure why, apart from the clackety clacking noise they make. Hope you enjoyed Dublin?
ReplyDeleteHelen, what a name - 'big fat robin' says it all really, doesn't it. Thanks for reading :)
ReplyDeleteSorry - that should have read 'fat robin' - dunno how that big slipped in there!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant little poem and excellent anecdote. (Best not dwell on that cat.)
ReplyDeleteKat