“Kiss Your Face” Week: Day Five

Once again, a slightly more theoretical face-kissing today.

The Birds.

Not the freaky-fabulous Hitchcock film (although, if you could kiss a film’s face, we’d have YEARS’ worth of blog fodder). The real birds that live in my neighborhood. There are the ones in my yard — mostly robins and magpies and swallows — and they’re nice (robins for chirpiness and swallows for swoopiness and magpies for general malevolence [1]). And there are the other ones in the ‘hood – like the totally white something-something I saw in my pre-sunrise walk this morning. It was getting amorous with some other little something-something birdie who was a fairly normal mountain birdish gray-brown, and if I had not been in such an understanding mood (love is colorblind and all that) I might have stopped it. It was so lovely, all glowy-white, and didn’t it want its babies to be just the same?

I love that these little birdies wake me up with their singing (except the weird black ones that sound like a backed-up kitchen sink drain), and that they keep it up all day long.

Thanks, birds. I love your guts. I kiss your faces. From here.

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[1] I’ve been writing a demon magpie into my WorkInProgress. There’s a constant stream of inspiration in my strawberry patch. *Shudder*