Sing For Your Seeds

A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.

Maya Angelou
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One of these days I wouldn't be surprised to get a comment from some unknown reader saying "Who asked you?"

Come on, you guys, I want to hear "tweet, tweet, chirp, chirp."

I don't really consider Vagabond Journeys as a journal of opinion, although I seem to express my opinions about one thing or another at the click of a keyboard button.

I ran out of bird seed on the weekend and as a result the finches and their companions weren't talking to me. So I went to Walmart and bought three big bags of seeds, and filled their feeder. Now I'm waiting to hear at least one tweet of gratitude. So far, nothing.

I stated writing the journal in 2006, full time since 2008 and during that time I've expressed a lot of opinions I suppose. But I also write about observations I've made, humor, stories of my life as an entertainer and bits and pieces of information having questionable value.

I even put up a container of jolly peanut based suet. The birds are showing their appreciation by putting 200 yards between themselves and my porch.

I write because I want to, and because I have to. I write every day. I write short grippingly interesting and angelically inspiring essays like this one. I hope I put seeds of thought in people's minds and lives.

Big man, big man, have you any gruel?
Yes sir, yes ma'am, three bags full.

They always scurry away when they see me. Even though I'm the one who fills their feeder, I'm just too big for them to contend with.

I am almost never asked for advice. In the few times I am I hope that the advice I give and the opinions I express are worth something to those in need, even if, as in some cases, I never hear from them again.

One of them got caught inside my apartment trying to get out through a closed window. I picked him up in one hand and carried him to the door. He was so grateful to me for saving him that without a chirp he took off like a shot to parts unknown.

As I have said before, I don't know many answers, but I know a lot of questions, and it's those questions that keep me curious and keep me writing. I have a few readers and get even fewer comments.

Some one will say not to worry the birds will return. Of course they will because they need to gorge themselves on my sunflower seeds and wild bird mix. They can't resist my cuisine for long. And I will be happy to see them. And hear them.

And don't write because I have answers, I write because I have a song.

DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
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SUMMER QUESTION

It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.

Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?

dbdacoba@aol.com

13 answers so far.

You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.

DB
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The Creatures

The good man is the friend of all living things.

Gandhi
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It's noon, I just filled up my bird feeder so the finches and other small winged creatures with feathers can enjoy the cuisine. Even though the birds scatter whenever I approach they are entertaining to watch from a distance. I realize there are many other birds too large for my feeder and some of them are predators who would eat my finches if they had the chance.

How can one be friends with "all living things"? It's easy to like a rose or a violet. But who can be friends with the cat tails, and skunk cabbage? We can make friends with a kitten, a puppy, even a sheep or a horse. But how can we be friends with a cock roach, a bat or a rattle snake. The only creature who thinks a wart hog is beautiful is another wart hog.

During hunting season in the north country, men go out and bag one deer as a limit. It's a device to keep down the overpopulation of the deer. But then there are the others who come up from elsewhere dressed head to toe in shocking orange garb, enough to frighten away any creature, start drinking and waiting for the deer to show up. If they haven't killed one by Sunday afternoon they get desperate and shoot anything, goats, cows, horses, each other and themselves, in the foot. Some will even try to buy a local hunter's catch because they would be ashamed to arrive back home Sunday evening without a deer strapped to their fender. What a joke.

Then there is the man who is the full time killer. To him anything with fins, scales, fur or feathers is to be summarily dispatched. To him, apparently, the animal kingdom is to be wiped out. Is he a "good man"? He probably thinks so.

We can't take the world's animals into our homes and hearts. But we can respect their rights by protecting their environments and leaving them to take care of themselves in the own natural ways. That's the best kind of friendship one can show to animal or human.

Besides we had better be "the friend to all living things." I think some of them are evolving faster than we are.

Never give up
DB - The Vagabond
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SUMMER QUESTION

It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.

Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?

dbdacoba@aol.com

10 answers so far.

You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.

DB
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It's For The Birds

The human soul needs actual beauty more than bread.

David Lawrence
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My house mates are nice people, two men and one woman, Patrick, Dan and Leslie. I hardly ever see them, but when I do they are always friendly. None of them have ever come up to visit except when Patrick came to try to fix my computer many months ago.

They visit each other but they don't invite me over. Why should they after all, they are all younger and I'm the old loon who lives in the attic, something out of a Dickens novel. I like that idea.

I have made invitations to my blog and email buddies to sit on my porch, enjoy a walk by the river, dine on our local Italian cuisine. Sometimes people say they will come and see me, but they don't. The only one who did was Just Plain Bill, who unfortunately passed from us a short time ago. But Bill and I had some fun, good conversation, drinks and dinner. I miss him.

The last person to come here was a former friend who tried to frighten me with tales of my imminent physical and mental disintegration and thus to leverage me out of my happy home into a nursing facility. Thank goodness that didn't happen. As the song says "I got through all of last year, and I'm here."

I figured that if the humans don't want to come and visit me maybe my feathered neighbors will be happy to be my company. So yesterday I bought a bird feeder and a huge, heavy bucket of wild bird seed. I got a lot of advice from the ladies at Walmart as to installing and tending it. Birds are lofty ideas who are intent on life and earnest communicators of a beauty and wisdom all their own.

Now today I have to figure out a way of mounting it so the squirrels don't get to the bird food and the cats don't get the birds.

Wish me luck.

DB
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WINTER QUESTION
(This is not a contest)

What was the most significant event that happened in 2010?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Only 7 responses so far. Winter is almost over. What's your answer?

DB
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