"Poor indeed is the garden in which birds find no homes." (--Abram L Urban)

Our back door’s wide open in the warm sun, the Metropolitan Opera’s playing on the radio, and the birds are chirping up a storm. It really does seem as if they’re trying to keep up with the music they’re hearing.

Have you ever noticed that the birds, like us, love to hear music? They really have been visiting a lot today, and hovering on the deck posts. I guess they’re all Wagner fans. Not a purist, I personally like Puccini. Yesterday, we had the doors open as well, and we were watching the DVD of “Moonstruck,” with the music from La Boheme.

Same thing—the birds went crazy the whole time the music played.

Outside, the lilacs and azaleas are blooming, and the first of the knockout roses is here on my desk.

When I glanced at our hanging baskets with coco fiber liners, I made a mental note to get some new liners: the birds have been busy stealing chunks of it for their nests all over creation. I imagine them thinking we stock it just for them.

Are we suckers or what?

“Spring would not be spring without bird songs.” (-Francis Chapman)