dig if you will a picture

I adore birds. I also always have a camera within arm's reach on my phone. My phone is even a pretty decent model, one for which I'll be dutifully paying the balance for quite a while longer. One might think that these three factors combined would result in some fantastic photos to share.

Like this, right?

photo credit: Patrice Audet
(oh, you noticed that's not my name?)

Yesterday brought a bird milestone for me, in that I saw not one of those beauties, but about ten of them all chowing down together in a tree. I've long been an admirer of the Cedar Waxwing via photos in my bird resource books or through online pics such as the one above. (Beautiful job, Patrice, really!) But never before had I seen one in front of me, with its bright dots of color and its impeccable cat eye makeup job, a supermodel among the usual drabber House Sparrows and American Robins.

Funnily enough, I almost didn't realize that a big birding moment was abreast. I was walking by my dear public library, and I'm not sure why I glanced up toward the tree limbs. Maybe I heard an unfamiliar bird call, maybe I caught a flash of color out of the corner of my eye, I'm not sure. But when I looked up, I immediately assumed that the mohawk-ish head that flashed by belonged to a female Cardinal. Thankfully, I took a longer look, which I followed up with a loud cheer.

After turning my toddler pal's stroller so he could partake in this glorious sighting and setting the brake so he wouldn't roll away in excitement, I moved toward the tree a couple paces and just sighed with contentment at the beauty of these creatures. Grabbing my phone, I quickly opened the camera app and took some photos before the group (apparently called an 'ear-full' or a 'museum') flew off. It was slightly misting after a morning of hard rain, and I couldn't really see my phone screen in the grayness. Zooming and pointing, pointing and zooming, I hoped I'd grab at least one or two decent shots to show the kids and mark the occasion.

Instead, I got these. They seem to be lacking that certain je ne sais quoi, no? That means clarity, decent lighting, and appropriate focus, right?

Oh, FFS.

C'mon, you gotta work with me a little, bird!

As you can see, I don't have much to show in way of photographic evidence of my first personal sighting of this gorgeous bird, on the first day of spring, no less! But, I shouldn't have been surprised. Just a few days earlier, I had gotten super excited to hear the familiar trilling of a Red-Winged Blackbird as I walked along the path adjacent to the river in town. This harbinger of spring makes me happy every year with his song, knowing that if I'm hearing that sound for the first time, the warm weather cannot be too far behind.

I saw the particular crooner that morning, sitting atop the back of my favorite bench, turning this way and that as he called and called for a mate-to-be. I wasn't sure how close I could get before he'd take flight, so I tried then, as well, to zoom and take a few photos, crossing my fingers that his red and yellow wing stripes would be visible.

The result?

Think that label announcing my ownership of this photo was necessary up there? 

Seriously, this bird is so lovely to look at, glossy black feathers contrasted with its bright, colorful wing stripes. I'm not a music person, but I'm pretty sure it's fitting to say that the Red-Winged Blackbird's call is staccato-like, and it is the absolute best soundtrack to sitting and watching the river lazily flow by. If I had an actual camera, along with even a smattering of photographic skillz, perhaps I'd be able to share a photo like this one as my very own.

photo credit: Alan D. Wilson, via Wikimedia Commons

But alas, I have neither of those, so I'm stuck with my subpar photos to accompany my top-notch spring birding experiences for now. Hashtag first world problems, right? (I have a feeling I'm doing that wrong, too.)

I may have to put my ambitions on hold anyway since today's walk provided very few bird sightings, but instead merited this sad photo of the juxtaposition of one season's weather and the next's early bloomers.

I call this: 'Temporary Melancholy in Yellow'

Happy spring?

Title inspiration: "When Doves Cry" by Prince