4.07.2006
Kiskadee
I talked with Mars Bear today and I mentioned my “Yeek-Woo” birds, which seemed to be two now, and she automatically said something like “oh, you saw a Kiskadee?” After months of looking at all those descriptions of warblers, because of all the yellow and similar characteristics, my quest for bird identification is over.
By the way, my Kiskadee do not sound at all like the name suggests, but still to me sounds like “Yeek-Woo.” OK, sometimes like “Yeek-woo-who,” but not very often. We bark at each other and the mockingbirds bark at us both and it is quite a riot here on somber Oleander Street as I walk the two dogs, with two cats and three birds following our every step.
On our royal processions up and down the street, the Kiskadee clears the way of all the nasty grackles, which endears me to them even more. Grackles are those offensive blackish birds with absolutely no redeeming value, swearing like sailors and cooting all day long, probably drunk on rotten berries. “Bad birds” I tell the lunging dogs and swooping Kiskadee, “off with their heads, I say!”
It is quite something to envision. Thanks, Mars Bear!
I talked with Mars Bear today and I mentioned my “Yeek-Woo” birds, which seemed to be two now, and she automatically said something like “oh, you saw a Kiskadee?” After months of looking at all those descriptions of warblers, because of all the yellow and similar characteristics, my quest for bird identification is over.
By the way, my Kiskadee do not sound at all like the name suggests, but still to me sounds like “Yeek-Woo.” OK, sometimes like “Yeek-woo-who,” but not very often. We bark at each other and the mockingbirds bark at us both and it is quite a riot here on somber Oleander Street as I walk the two dogs, with two cats and three birds following our every step.
On our royal processions up and down the street, the Kiskadee clears the way of all the nasty grackles, which endears me to them even more. Grackles are those offensive blackish birds with absolutely no redeeming value, swearing like sailors and cooting all day long, probably drunk on rotten berries. “Bad birds” I tell the lunging dogs and swooping Kiskadee, “off with their heads, I say!”
It is quite something to envision. Thanks, Mars Bear!
