|Anonymous tango drummer|
They were hot--all three of them.
|Diego, down under, moving to impress this hot chick|
It was some kind of Flicker foreplay: a male on the chimney cap pulsing out enticing rhythms, a female and another male in a no-touch tango with quick, sensuous dips and sways entwined with brief, very still, pauses.
|Hey, Big Guy, come closer!|
Heads turned and bobbed to the beat, tail feathers, normally gathered to a point, were spread into an alluring fan. My rooftop was the dance floor.
But then suddenly Diego flew away, followed by the hot chick and finally, the drummer on the chimney who never told me his name. Wow, what a show right in broad daylight at nine in the morning and Things I get to do today included having a front row seat--my rooftop, after all.
Only a hundred feet up the street two Varied Thrush flirted from tree to tree. I normally see Varied Thrush as ground feeders and only when the temperatures are below freezing during the day. Something must be in the air.
Moments later two Song Sparrows zipped by in close formation, then into a leafless tree and down to the ground. Something was on their mind besides seeds and bugs. Timing is everything, I'm told. I had lengthened my morning walk by an extra couple of blocks and arrived home to see the glorious meaning of spring.