That's Where You'll Find Me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly.
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can't I?

The thing is, I can, figuratively speaking, and even if I don't, watching bluebirds just about does it for me. Yes, today is one of those days when the ecstasy of a dream fulfilled overcomes me like a spring flood, one of those days when it feels like somewhere over the rainbow is right here, on the Compostella farm.

Jacob took Josie to church up in his home parish at St. Peters today, [a male bluebird is singing right outside my office window right now as I type, perched on a maple tree with its electric-blue back to me and cheering me with its sweet, gentle warbles, as his sweetheart sits on a branch right above him], and I stayed home so I can prune my raspberry patch. This is the task that needed to be done, and it's very difficult to do with a two-year old.

I had this fabulous morning all to myself, and I decided to quickly check out the bluebird boxes before I went into the vineyard, where the raspberry patch is. I opened one box down on the South-Western corner of the West Slope where it meets the front-yard pasture. Sure enough, there was a nest being built here. It wasn't quite as neat as I imagined a bluebird nest to be, but I hesitated deciding that it was a sparrow nest and removing it. Instead, I closed the box, ran up the hill to the house, and went online to study the pictures of the nests of both birds. I was soon persuaded that it was, after all, a bluebird nest. Good thing I trusted my judgment. The nest, built out of dry grasses and a few barred rocks chicken feathers, complied with the online description. I ran back down to the box, checked it out again, and restored the screw that held the pivot side of the box in place. Exciting, no? I then checked out the remaining four boxes - one in the front yard was empty, two of the vineyard ones had a few sticks in them - as though someone had began to build a nest (bluebirds, no doubt). The third one had a nest built in it that was well on its way to completion, and looked a lot like the one in the first box - the bluebird nest.

My guess was confirmed nearly immediately, as I settled into pruning my berries. I watched a male bluebird hang out in the vineyard, hunting from the posts that hold up the wires that, in their turn, hold up the grapevines. Next time I saw him, he was with a female, and what do you know, they headed for my very box, the one with the most complete nest in it, and began to contribute to the nest, periodically disappearing inside, and at other times sitting perched on the wires right next to the box. I only saw the delightful picture of a bluebird hanging on the outside of a nest box online before, and I now at last I could see it with my own eyes.

Now, let me tell you, that this bluebird box thing is an important, however small, contribution to the "bluebird trail" effort to provide bluebirds with nesting sites, which, after the North-Americans got on it, practically saved this stunning and beloved by everyone species of birds from extinction. I am, first of all, very pleased with myself for making an effort to find out the right dimensions for the boxes, persuading my husband to build them, and then choosing what seemed like, and proved to be ideal sites for those boxes. Now I only have to hope that the damn English sparrows or wrens don't interfere with the bluebirds' efforts as they are known to do - bluebirds, as far as I understand, are not nearly aggressive enough to fight them off, unlike, say, robins, who the other day I watched beating the hell out of a squirrel who repeatedly climbed to the robin nest in the orchard (the first active bird nest I saw in my life, and, thus, significant in that way).

But, of course, this nest box mounting had a selfish reason behind it, too - my passionate desire to see and keep those most beautiful and magical of birds around - bluebirds of happiness indeed. So, thanks to the boxes and our large vineyard, I had a pleasure today of watching them continuously as I pruned, and listening to the male's sweet song, along with that of a cardinal, a mourning dove, a song sparrow, a killdeer, a chipping sparrow, house finches, robins, and more. So I can't help but to congratulate myself - seeing bluebirds regularly was one of my most aggressive dreams of late - and I now have resident bluebirds! I feel like Thoreau today, really (which I feel like A LOT) - a maverick, an amateur naturalist, and even a bit of a philosopher.

Oh, and you know what else I saw today? I saw a couple of tiny ruby-crowned kinglets today, and a couple of what were either vireos or warblers (I couldn't tell because I didn't have my binoculars on me).

So let me tell you, birding adds to rural (and any other) lifestyle immensely, really, so I recommend it to everyone, especially when you get to positively (hopefully) affect their life by putting out feed, water, and bird houses.

I can't wait for May to see if I can attract orioles and perhaps spot a few indigo buntings around. And hummers, of course. My feeders are ready!