Shadows flit across my worktable, reflected movement in the glass.
The chickens mumble and coo, their feet shushing and crunching in the dry leaves outside my studio window.
The birds have found the feeder.
Sparrow, chickadee, titmouse and nuthatch so far.
They land bruskly and leave quickly.
But I know in a short time they’ll get used to me being on the other side of the glass. They’ll linger longer, leisurely cracking more than one seed in their beak before flying off.
For now they flutter like a leaf caught in the wind.
They shimmy like the tarp on the woodpile,
dancing with sunlight.
I can see the birds, hear the hens, smell the leaves but somehow can’t taste the bird seeds . lol
Such wonderfully descriptive writing.
Thank you so much Laurie. :)