The chickadee who wants an afternoon bath is
A solitary chickadee flies from a dwindling Pacific silver fir tree to a swinging limb on red alder and then to a maple tree. On many days, I see these songbirds in a pair or in banditry, but today I find her singing alone.
The one black-capped chickadee I am watching looks like she is wearing an oversized black hat on her cute head.
She does a tiny spin without being swept away by the breeze that just came on in the late summer midday. Her wings spread and her hips get in position, and she progresses to a sunny sprig of a Western red cedar. The afternoon light blasts on her. Quickly, she turns and does a chickadee flip and lands on the shady sprig.
Her round black eyes
Her round black eyes are looking for something soothing. She eyes the refreshing water in the pond.
She flies under a few hanging branches with hanging leaves, and by the time I took a step, she drops to the edge of the concrete of the pond.
The chickadee little skittish looking at the pond, but her drive to take a bath on a hot day is stronger than her fear of water. Though it is not usually hot in Oregon, it is a fine hot day for a chilled drink, like cold water from a hidden pond.
She turns her face, looking around, and then she stares at the pond.
Her face doesn’t look very happy when she scans the size of the pond.
Standing in one spot, the temperature just got two degrees hotter. She stares at the pond.
The little bird can’t stand it any longer. She needs a drink and a bath. She moves her legs and lifts her whole body and lands on a twig.
The water looks deep for her small frame, so she tests it.
The songbird slides on the thinnest twist and pauses right at the edge of the twig.
She sits on a twig contemplating
Should I get in the water or not
Summer greens are popping all around the pond and some with flowers like pond lilies. She is on the opposite end of the water lilies, where it is wide open with water. She is still contemplating. No, she made up her mind. Time to take a dive.
She dives in and plops her belly in the water, creating ripples.
The water, the water, the water on my feathers love that.
The water feels great on my feathers she says with a tweet,”
The chickadee who wants an afternoon bath has different tweets, but that is what is coming out of her happy mouth now.
She hears some noises (the footsteps of passerby) and stops sending her cheerful tweets. She flies to the nearest branch and surveys.
It is those pond walkers she sings… “Don’t mean to rush you, but would you hurry up because I need a drink.”
She looks around, feeling the urge to take a drink of water,
but first another dive.
This time she goes
This time she goes where the summer greens are springing up and walks on the pond leaves with her tiny grey feet.
She stops and dips her head in between the gaps of the leaves.
“The water, the water, the water on my feathers feels wonderful,” the songbird tweets I translate from her sweet sound of relief.
She hops out and flies from the pond to a branch.
The water feels great on my feathers, but oh momma I want to go out there again, she tweets with a high pitch sound sounding like this, “
She flies and drops down and take a sip of water with her yellow beak.
Just like that she flies from the pond leaf to a branch.
The feathered songbird gets back on a higher branch and shakes off that water.
Gorgeous she still is with her after bath ruffled feathers.
