Coronavirus Quarantine Diary: Day 91, Entry 20, Unfortunately This is Mostly About the Action Around the Bird Feeder -- Still, Somewhat Amusing

Yes, it's another picture I took of a sparrow at the bird feeder.

Okay well I’ve written something today. Sure the first two words were: okay and well, but that doesn’t alter the facts that words have appeared on a computer screen as a consequence of my typing. Subsequent words have formed sentences and indeed an entire paragraph that ends right here.

I have a lot to say but no inclination to say it. I’ve stories to write, opinions to express, diatribes to launch into and summations to submit. Although right now I’m being distracted by a bird that is about ten feet away taking full advantage of our bird feeder. It’s a nervous looking bugger — they generally are, you know — who has to constantly scan the area. This is in part why the bird, like most, is such a sloppy eater. They spill about as much as they consume. As I completed the preceding sentence the bird departed and in his or her place a couple arrived and as I write this sentence they have been joined by two others therefore there are currently a record-tying four birds at the feeder. Must be family night out. They are all sparrows and one has significant red markings. Now they’ve all left. The birds never stay for long. A real dine and dash crowd these feathered friends. Thus the bird feeder is currently not in use. Just hanging there — never mind, a bird arrived — never mind it left again. That’s one thing that I like about the squirrels that come by. They hang around for a good bit. (Guess what, another bird has just arrived.) The missus and I have not noticed any squirrels climbing the bird feeder of late, indeed we’ve had little squirrel traffic these past two weeks. There were six or seven days in which neither of us saw any of our nut-loving friends. In fact, there used to be four or five different ones that came around and we’ve only had one juvenile about lately. Maybe there was a pogrom. Who knows? The most interesting animal appearance we’ve had recently was a gopher, of all things, who actually braved the outdoors when it was still daylight — although only just, the sun was fading from view. The odd thing — very, very odd — was that a noise spooked the gopher and it ran up some stairs. Why on Earth would a gopher go up stairs? Weird.

My life isn’t all birds, squirrels and gophers (nor moose, nor elk, nor catamounts nor badgers nor grizzlies nor bobcats nor wolverines nor Tasmanian devils) I continue to write, read, chat, watch films and take walks daily, usually in the company of my long-suffering spouse.

On said walks we have noted that — unfortunately — more and more people are eschewing masks. We live in Berkeley not Redneck City, Oklahoma, so this is especially disappointing. It seems a simple enough proposition to keep the masks on when near other human beings. I’ve read that if everyone wore masks we could put a serious dent in this pandemic and be out all the sooner enjoying something at least approaching a normal life. But people are wonderful, horrible, kind, thoughtless, brilliant, stupid, beautiful, nasty, creative, brain dead and utterly baffling. I here note that all of the preceding adjectives have applied to me over the course of my life in addition to many others, both on the positive and negative sides of the ledger. I ruminate constantly about the time I’ve spent on this planet and have found much to  wince at and much to be proud of and a lot to be baffled by. I would imagine that applies to a lot of people. Perhaps most.

The squirrels and birds that I see everyday don’t change much. I applaud them for their consistency and reliability but lament the fact that they can’t learn. You’d figure they’d know by now I wouldn’t harm them for anything so that if I get out my chair, go out the front door and pay my respects they needn’t scurry off.

I'm now as sick of writing about birds as you are of reading about them. You're welcome.

Ideas for future posts: The writing process; living part time in 1941 (as I’m doing in writing my novel); the vagaries of being a sports fan (it should be all fun and games — isn’t); proving that the Seventies was the best decade of film; my experiences as an ESL teacher; most underrated films by great directors; and the recent alien encounter I has and how it’s changed my relationship with the universe.

Meanwhile I close with these words of wisdom from Robert Benchley: “there are two kinds of people in the world, people who think that there are two kinds of people in the world, and people who don’t.”

Indisputable.