I am still enjoying teaching my grandkids about birds and bird habitats. This weekend they heard their first whipporwhill. Ah, the look of amazment on their faces. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find it.
A few weeks ago, I was with them at their house. The two younger ones, Evan and Emmi were playing in the front yard. Evan riding his Flintstone car. You know, the one with the red bottom and yellow top they have move around with their feet like Fred Flintstone. He suddenly stops, gets out and squats down on the sidewalk. He calls Emmi over. Evan: “What kind of bird do you think that is?” he says, pointing to the ground. Emmi: “I think its a robin.” “No, I think its a mourning dove.” Emmi, “But this one is different. I think it’s a cardinal.” Silence for a few moments at which time I go over to see what on earth they are looking at. There are no birds flying around.
Evan: “Titi, what bird do you think this one is?” I look at the ground. They are studying – can you believe it – bird poop. Lots and lots of bird poop. And, I have to admit, different types of bird poop.
Now, I have taught them a lot about birds, butI can honestly say I’ve discussed of bird poop with them. Now I’m wondering if there is a book on the subject. I had a hard time not laughing, but they were so serious about their findings, that I had to slap a hand over my mouth. Man, I love those kids