I rarely see them, but when I do, they are small, yet all day their piercing songs slice the humid air forcing all to hear regardless of whether or not they are listening.
They come and go finding food, where? Finding water, where? Finding shelter, where? All the while singing, squawking, screaming their praises. There is nothing I do that lures them and nothing I do that scares them away.
I often stop mid-morning or mid-evening to just listen.
|Our bathroom window opens up on an overgrown, empty lot. Just beyond the lot is this alley. Hidden in those branches and sitting on the wires are all kinds of tropical birds.|