A nice, fat and fluffy sparrow perches on a rusty pipe attached to the wall. He taps his beak vigorously on the pipe, left and right. Suddenly, clattering like a maniac, he dashes across the parking lot into a tangled thicket of shrubs peppered with the freshly arriving gentle green. The sparrow lands with considerable precision right on top of his mate, who has been waiting for him quietly, sitting on a pliant branch. The sparrow does his act – a few seconds, flaps his wings cheerfully, repeats, then departs, settling in a tree a few feet away. They both peacefully check their feathers.
I’ve watched sparrows’ activities for a few years now – since the time when the birds moved into a street light attached to the wall of my home. The glass in the lamp was broken, a part missing, so the sparrows filled it completely with straw and twigs – a great nest to raise a family – always dry, warm in winter and cool in summer. It looks quite cozy.
I spread some bread crumbs on my windowsill. Being a musician, I know the value of free food.
Soon we will have more sparrows. It is a good thing.