5:30 am and I want to shoot a magpie.
Last night I was thinking about creation and the God who is reconciling all things to Godself in Christ. But then for the third $%^ing morning in a row these shrieking, squawking fowl surround my back yard shouting at each other. On our deck, on our fence, on our roof (and under our open window) they form an unholy circle to shout to each other about worms, sticks, airspace, their plans for the day and God knows what else these birds need to communicate with one another.
Growing up in Calgary there were magpies here and there. Having moved back five years ago I’ve noticed that’s changed – there are magpies everywhere. Rabbits too (or hare) but they’re mostly quiet as far as I can tell (and I don’t have an outdoor garden). I’ve heard people complain about magpies before – scavengers that menace the sparrows and robins by eating their eggs – but I don’t know much about ecology or the optimum Calgary bird balance.
Magpies have less-than-pretty faces, like an underdeveloped version of a crow’s face, but their wings are pretty and I never try to get too close anyway. I’ve never had a problem with them save the occasional time one hops on our fence and taunts little Izzy (our dog) or tries to get in our garbage (but then, that’s my fault for leaving garbage on the deck and not taking it to the bins in the alley).
Nevertheless! This sunrise symphony of squawk must stop! I need my sleep! Please birds, cease and desist.
It is presently 6:08 am. All is quiet and peaceful. No magpies.
See you tomorrow at 5:30.