This page, WRITE TO A PICTURE, is an invitation to our regular writers and to our visitors. Send an original poem, a story, or your recollections. Share your thoughts and experiences with those who like to READ what others write. Send to me at LaraOct7@aol.com.

 Early 'Write To A Picture' pages are archived. The links are here:

Beach Scene "1" Old Train Station "2"
The Carousel "3" The Fifties "4"
Summer Picnic "5" From The Heart "6"
Cloudy Moon "7" September Morn "8"
Passing The Time "9" Apples "10"
Rain "11" Pumpkins "12"
Halloween "13" Big City "14"
Remembrance Day "15" Autumn Harvest "16"
A Cozy Nook "17" Migration "18"
The Kitchen On Memory Lane "19" Holding Hands "20"
Indoor Gardening "21" Playing In The Snow "22"
Bonding With Children "23" Old House "24"
The General Store "25" Friends and Friendship "26"
The Kitchen Window "27" Gentle Hearts "28"
Our Sweet Tooth "29" Cars "30"
Our Good Morning! "31" Pictures on the Wall "32"
Easter "33" Our Feathered Friends "34"



 


Our Feathered Friends

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)







I can't imagine Spring without song birds. Nor I can't imagine Florida without pink flamingos. Have you ever stopped to realize how many birds there are, and how we often take them for granted? It's true that birds can be messy. They poop on the sidewalks, on the boardwalks, on us, and on our cars. But oh how pleasant their songs are. I have several big shade trees in my backyard, plus three large White Pine trees. I have two feeders and three birdbaths and I see birds come and go all day long.

When I visit my brother in South Carolina, I see egrets, herons, whooping cranes, and pelicans. Lately, when I've been out on my early morning walks, I have heard a woodpecker. At first I thought it was one of those big Pileated woodpeckers, the kind with the big red head. Anyway, I decided to hunt him down one morning and guess what? That loud pecking noise I've been hearing comes from a little Downy Woodpecker. lol I'm sure he distupts the sleep of every late sleeper in the neighborhood.

Do you have a bird population in your backyard? Are you a bird watcher? Fiction or fact, we look forward to your entry.








 


Our Feathered Friends

By Mary (MusingByMary@aol.com)







Sing for me
sweet Robin Redbreast;
how I've longed for Winter
to take a rest.


I see you flying
tree to tree;
oh, sing your lovely
songs for me.


Join the chorus,
sweet Robin, faire;
let all of your songs
fill the air.


Sing with joy
for Spring is here;
let your voices
bring us cheer.


Mockingbird,
you Hummers, Wrens;
share Spring's joys
Our Feathered Friends:-)



Mary Carter Mizrany
April 9, 2007









 


Our Feathered Friends

By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)







What’s that you say, my dear?
Oh, I know it's that time of year.


It's time to start a little family by building a nest.
Would you prefer it be in a tree, just what do you think would be best?


Over there are some lovely sunflower seeds.
They will certainly fill our needs.


A family of five would be nice I think,
And a birdbath would be nice for the babies to get a drink.


By the shed is a nice big bush;
Perhaps we could share baby-sitting duties,
And when the time is right, give them a gentle push.


Its spring, so let's get a move on my dear.
The weather is lovely,
And the day is clear.


Babies will come soon as Mom sits on the nest.
Dad will fly to and fro,
And tell us how he is blest.









 


Singing Trees

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)







In the very early part of dawn,
You should hear the goings-on!
Sounds that I've never heard
Are being played by some bird.


Like an owl whose beak is throbbing,
I know for sure, it's not a robin.
Don't think that it's a purple grackle.
This is a mystery I must tackle.


Blue Jays usually sound real mad.
This one calls like it's glad.
It's not a sparrow or a thrush..
I think it's hiding in a bush.


But when I hear its hearty "PEEP"!
You know it pulls me right from sleep.
This is just the thing
To remind me that it's Spring!









 


Fickle April

By Joy (JOY3032@aol.com)







I awake and say "thank you Lord"
For sun and lovely weather
Seems so long since we've seen birds
Picking through the Winter heather


I rise and dress and eat so quick
Knowing that this day may not last
I go and take a fast paced walk
Dreaming that Winter's finally past


I hear the Jays a squawking
While building their new Spring nest
Picking through the trees and shrubs
To find material that's the best


Before I go a mile from home
The clouds are forming quickly
The wind is picking up it seems
And the rain is feeling prickly


Before I get half way home
A sprinkle descends from on high
And then another and another
"Not again", I softly cry


The noisy birds pick up the rhythm
Flitting high up in the tree
Their chatter becomes a cacophony
They're disappointed, just like me


Oh Spring, you fickle season
You've caught us unaware once again
When will I ever learn to be patient
Will this Winter never end?









 


Our Feathered Friends

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)







Blue Jays be fussy ones,
Never happy, always fussing.
Got to be the big bird,
Always fussing and a flogging.


The most regal bird we have,
For it is too cold for cardinals.
So each morning peanuts I feed,
As the Blue Jays come to feed.


During the day alas,
Them I hear,
For there are no peanuts for them,
Squawk and fuss, that they do,


But a peanut they do take,
Eat one and hide the rest.
Oh they do have their way,
Until momma dove comes around









 


Feathered Friends

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)







Colorful birds soaring on wing
Finches on limb prettily sing
Quail babies soon will leave warm nest
Mockingbirds twill don't even rest


Falcon taunted by Cactus wren
Red-winged black bird setting the trend
Mr. Raven gliding in sky
Roadrunner begging my oh my


Snowbirds heading back to their home
Next winter they will start into roam
Watch out Larry Lizard for Hawk
Jay birds noisy with their loud squawk


There's sweet little Mexican dove
Cooing to his girlfriend with love
Oh yes night birds come around too
Listen to that old owl whoo whoo


Warm weather hummingbirds does bring
Honeysuckle draws them in Spring
Blue Heron and ducks on the lake
Grab the camera pictures to take









 


Feathered Friends

By Barbara (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)







The sounds of spring come once again
It is cold at night still, but songs of birds sing out'
So many different birds, some I can't name.
I watch the trees in my yard and they are many.
The birds of colors are easy to see, and wonderful to listen to their songs.
The blue jays are out and about, flying from tree to tree.
I saw some strange bird building a nest in the tall pine.
Gee the squirrels may be upset, they have nests in that pine.


The oak trees and pines, the dogwood and myrtles,
More pines than anything else.
Out near my little fish pond the azaleas bloom.
In the lower yard bloom hedges of lilacs and forsythia.
Under these the birds find things to structure their nests.
We watch as they carry the things, pine straw and scraps of cloth,
And some unknown colored things, perhaps thread.
Later we listen as they make the nest into a home.
Beautiful music from tiny flying acrobats.









 


The Mourning Doves

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)







THE MOURNING DOVES OUTSIDE MY WINDOW
ARE COOING IN THE EARLY DAWN
THEY WAKE ME UP FROM SOUND OF SLEEP
I STRETCH AND STIFLE A YAWN


I HEAR THE COOING CONSTANTLY
IT'S A SOUND THAT MAKES ME THINK
HOW DO THEY DO THAT WITHOUT BEING BORED
DON'T THEY GO TO THE BIRD BATH FOR A DRINK?


I SEE THE ROBIN RED-BREAST, TOO
THEY FLIT ABOUT SO EASILY
THEY HOP FROM BUSH AND BLADE OF GRASS
PECKING FOR WORMS BUSILY


THE ROBINS ARE A SIGN OF SPRING
AS ARE THE MOURNING DOVES
SO SPRING HURRY UP AND COME
IT'S A SEASON THAT I LOVE.









 


Our Feathered Friends

By Marty (mjford19@aol.com)







Sweet sounds of early morn
When birds begin in song
The echo's of the chickadee
Racing among the trees
The bluejays color, beauty to see
Woodpeckers hammering, on the old walnut tree
The vivid beauty of the cardinal
A nuthatch rambles, up and down
Soft-purring coo, a dove's gentle tune
The bobwhite's call, a red-tailed hawk
A little owl hoots, into the darken night
The grace of the eagle, soaring in flight
Red-breasted robin, a sign of spring
Wee-size hummingbirds, hover lively
A summer bluebird builds, for her young
Whistling meadowlarks, fluty in song
The gray heron awaits, by lakes and ponds
A kingfisher moves fast, noisy in call
Fields and scattered trees, shelter the hawk
Birds of many, marvel in color
Our feathered friends, give beauty and song
To view, to listen, to linger and pause.









 


The Birds

By susi Taylor (Texaswishr@aol.com)







squawking blue jays with their pointy heads
fight outside my window while i'm still in bed
red-headed woodpecker perched out in the tree
could really care less if he's disturbing me
mourning dove sits on the fence quietly cooing
hoping to attract a life long love with her wooing
hummingbirds flit to and fro, wings at super-speed
beaks dipping into flowers for the pollen they need
robins pulling up the worms from my winter-wet lawn
the early bird is he, hunting in light of dawn
mockingbird in the waving willow
sings every song of his bird fellows
red-winged blackbirds sit and watch the traffic speed
from the roadside ditches perched on a slender reed
hawks and eagles screech while flying thru the sky
keeping an eye on the ground for rabbits hopping by
bright red cardinals with their mates of brown
are the favorite birds when Christmas comes 'round
each year winter birds come to my porch to feed
making a mess of the hulls of bird seed
in the summer they gather at the puddles in the drive
to bathe and to sing and be happy they're alive
I awake each new day to the song of the bird
The purest and sweetest sound to be heard









 


An Allegory

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)







Missiles of cobalt blue,
As if shot to peck a head,
Or eat a peanut or two,
Bullybirds some have said.


Why, say they in their flight,
Are we maligned and just because,
We do what little feathers do,
They’re "cute", get nature’s applause.


Life is hard for Jays and Grackles,
Songs not liked by the mass,
But what would you do without us,
If nothing but for melodious contrast.









 


Our Feathered Friends

By Connie (CSThomas@aol.com)







Tom leaves nuts
for ole Joe and me
but along came Squirrely
to fill his belly, I see


Soon Redbird Mike
came flying in low
Scoopin' one up
Chirpin' "Thank you, Joe."


"Better get on down
Or the flies 're our next meal
Ole Hawk's a'comin' and ya
know how that bird steals ."


But a hard lesson learned
'cuz their patience said wait
The nuts are all gone
Now it's way too late!









 


Our Feathered Friends

By Bob (C1ydeBunky@aol.com)







Birds is good and birds is fun
pretty much for everyone
flying all around in herds
there is nothing like those birds


They got feathers on their bods
keep them warm despite the odds
and their very handy talons
probly help them keep their balance


some noise that they make is - well -
at least singing they sound swell
pretty much they fun to see
when they do not notice me


I most highly recommend
we those lovely birds befriend
they are great, we can't deny -
Gee! We walk, and they can fly!


Made of leaves and sticks, their homes
and they have no use for poems
You'll not see one using words
Such a thing is for the birds!









 


My Feathered Friends, My Mentors, My Joy!

By Evelyn (Evenccw@aol.com)







A world without birds would be unthinkable. They are in our back yards. They are in our living rooms in cages. They are in zoos with simulated rainforests where we can enjoy exotic birds we would otherwise never encounter. All have biological clocks that are not disturbed by man’s daylight savings time! Each has its distinctive song or call. It seems that of all the species that come to our feeder, the cardinal is our most frequent visitor. In my growing up years I was told that when I saw a red bird it meant that I would be getting a letter! I loved this piece of lore. Perhaps it is for that reason that I tended to correspond with family and friends or just answer ads at an early age because I actually did receive many letters. The “red bird” myth seemed to work for me! Victor Hugo’s words are like a hallowed writ!


Be like the bird, which on frail branches balanced
A moment sits and sings;
He feels them tremble, but he sings unshaken
Knowing that he has wings





Red bird outside my bedroom window



One bird in particular I consider my mentor. In metaphor he gave me my wings! His name is Jonathan Livingston Sea Gull! In 1973 Richard Bach wrote his timeless Jonathan Livingston Seagull. “It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea.” Leafing through the paperback in a drug store, these first lines held me spellbound, carrying me to the sandy beaches of the Outer Banks of North Carolina where seagulls were such a part of family summer fun and adventure. By the middle 1970s the family was growing up and leaving the nest. There was no longer the togetherness of family vacations as the children began pursing their jobs and interests. Like Jonathan, my world was changing. As he, I realized that I wasn’t a pawn or a victim of circumstances. I had the power to change the world around me as I had long perceived it!

The metaphor about a lone seagull created in me an awareness that I too could take flight, live and learn by taking nothing for granted! Jonathan taught me that, ”You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way!” Furthermore, he said, “The gull sees farthest who flies highest!” I received my BA in the College of Arts and Sciences at the University of Akron in 1981. I have been thirsting for knowledge ever since. Thank you Jonathan!




Evelyn's Mentor!

Jonathan Livingston Seagull



Sea gulls often fly down Akron way from Lake Erie, generally in flocks. Recently, in a mall parking lot, I noticed a lone sea gull looking at me quizzically. I opened my car door and spoke to it. It didn’t run away. Was this my Jonathan on a lone adventure? I found a packet of snack crackers in my glove compartment. The bird walked over and took one from my outstretched hand! Sharing our packet of crackers we both were off in time and space soaring over blue waters and sandy beaches. Crackers consumed, after our moment of sharing, we bid each other good day. Memories are made of this!

Birds, my feathered friends, are all around us, everywhere. They are such a part of my life that sadly there are times that I fail to notice them. My nephew, children’s author, Conrad Storad, Jr., introduces his, Flying Colors, Beautiful Birds of the Southwest with these lines: “Take a walk anywhere on Planet Earth. Stop. Look around. Listen. The chances are very good that you will see or hear a bird of some type after only waiting a few minutes. Birds are everywhere.”

In the Akron area excitement begins to stir each February when the Great Blue Herons begin their migration to the Cuyahoga Valley National Park just minutes away from where I live. These migrants and summer residents begin to arrive and repair their nests from the previous year. The males come first and are joined by the females in March. Seemingly oblivious to the crowds that gather to observe them, the herons go about their family matters.




Great Blue Heron rookery, breeding ground,
Cuyahoga Valley National Park
Peninsula, Ohio



Annually, we are charmed by flocks of robins that congregate on our lawn in February. The ground is usually still frozen but they feed on seeds scattered from the fall. Nothing daunted, they arrived this year when the ground was covered with the heaviest snowfall on record. I am delighted when they build their nests in our eaves or tucked between lights. Though they might cause some inconvenience, I wouldn’t think of disturbing them!




Robin nesting over the McCusker
garage door lights



Emily Dickenson’s “Hope Is The Thing With Feathers” is a lovely “bird” metaphor that speaks volumes:



Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,


And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.


I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.



According to Jonathan Livingston Seagull “You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way!”








 


Our Feathered Friends

By Lilly (Lilprincessitali@aol.com)







SOME YEARS AGO I HAD PARAKEETS
FIRST HAD ONE THEN HAD TWO
LOVELY BIRDS BUT WERE VERY MESSY
MY KIDS REFUSED TO CLEAN THE CAGE
THEN WAS UP TO ME BUT I DID NOT MIND
I ENJOYED THEM AND THE THINGS THEY DID
WOULD COME ON MY FINGER AT TIMES
I LET THEM THEM FREE, FLYING IN THE ROOM
THEY LOVED TO PERCH ON TOP OF DRAPES
THEY CAME WHEN I OPENED CAGE DOOR
A BLESSING THEY DIDNT MESS OUT OF CAGE
THEY PECKED AT MY FINGER NAIL SOME TIMES
WHEN WANT FOOD OR WATER OR FOR FUN
THEY LOVED THEIR SWING AND GLIDED ON IT
THEY PLAYED WITH SOME TOYS I BOUGHT
THEY DID NOT SING BUT CHIRPED TONES
FUN TIME WATCHING WHAT THEY DO
NONE DIED ON ME BUT GAVE THEM AWAY


I LIKE ALL BIRDS OUT OF MY HOUSE
EVERY WINTER SOUTH, I WENT TO BEACHES
I BROUGHT BAGS OF TORN UP BREAD
SEA GULLS WOULD COME TO ME AND BEG
I THREW BREAD IN AIR THEY FLY AND EAT
SOMETIMES THEY FIGHT OVER THEIR CATCH
LUCKY NOT TO GET DROPINGS ON TO ME


ONCE IN AWHILE IN WARM WEATHER I WAKE
SEE MOURNING DOVES ON DECK RAILING
THEY WOBBLE ALONG PECK AT FALLEN SEED
THEY COO MERRILY AND LOOK AT EACH OTHER
I SEE THEM FAT AND WONDER WHAT THEY ATE
I WATCH THEM UNTIL THEY FLY AWAY


ROBINS COME EVERY SPRING MANY TO COUNT
THEY ARE ATTRACTED TO MY CRABAPPLE TREE
THEY SEEM TO SMELL WHAT THEY LIKE
THEY GET AND BRING TO NEST ALL DAY LONG
ALL YEAR MANY KINDS BIRDS COME TO FEEDERS
I WATCH THEM DIFFERENT TIMES DAY AND NITE
NEVER A DULL MOMENT MY FEATHERED FRIENDS









 

 

 

 



Watch these pages for more of these "Write to a Picture" pages.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.


Crown of Glory

Colored Eggs

A Rabbit Tale

Pink-Eared Bunny

DownOnTheFarm

Easter Bunny




Lara's Den has free E-cards. I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors.
Click the button to access the index.


And.......for many others, click the index image.



 

Graphics by Marilyn
http://graphicsbymarilyn.com

graphicsbymarilyn@yahoo.com

The blue jays came from photographs taken by TomWYO (tomWYO@aol.com)