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I was not going to write about killer mockingbirds today.  I was going to write about my attempt at taking ‘artsy’ pictures this weekend and getting severely burned at the pool because I used expired sunscreen.  That was fun.  Not.

Hangout spot for the gang of bad news birds... (not pictured: my awful sunburn)

Hangout spot for the gang of bad news birds… (not pictured: my awful sunburn)

No.  I will instead talk about these killer mockingbirds that have nested in one of our bushes out in front of our house by our driveway.  Last year they did the same thing, nested in the same bush.  I have been marked for death both last year and this year.  However, they leave Patrick unscathed.  Let me tell you the story of how the mockingbird (I’m gonna call her/him Avery – a nice unisex name for a bird I think), Avery, and I got off on the wrong foot.  It was a bright spring day last year.  I was helping Patrick with some yard work.  At some point during that fateful day, I knocked the bush closest to my car at the head of the driveway.  All of a sudden I heard war cries from Avery.  The screeches seemed to come from every direction.  I didn’t know what was happening as they got closer and louder.  Patrick informed me that I had just knocked a bush with a nest full of eggs.  From that day forward, Avery had it out for me.  It would dive bomb my head and swoop in to pluck my eyes out with it’s pointy little bird beak and razor sharp talons.  I may be exaggerating a bit.  This was all last spring.

Rays of sun shine on the flying demons... (not pictured: mockingbird Avery who just plucked my eyes out)

Rays of sun shine on the flying demons… (not pictured: mockingbird Avery who just plucked my eyes out)

This spring the damned winged demons have nested again, in the same exact bush by the driveway.  It just so happens to be the bush closest to where I park my car.  This year I have steered clear of the bush and I always turn and look the other way when I walk by the area, in the hopes that I don’t radiate a threatening demeanor.  The birds don’t care.  They remembered my ill-fated clumsiness of last year.  The had me marked for DEATH!

I will tell you this…I have documented Avery and her fellow hell-demons in the act of dive bombing Boston Dog.  It is on YouTube.  No, I will not tell you my username because all the other videos you can then watch are really embarrassing.  Just know that I have video-graphic evidence of this encounter.

The reason I bring this up now is because I found an interesting article, and god only knows how I came about it, but a professor at the University of Florida in Gainsville published a research paper in the proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences entitled Urban mockingbirds quickly learn to identify individual humans.

This proves I am not crazy and that Avery has put a hit out for me and that they don’t care about Patrick.  He can mow the lawn and trim the trees and hedges and still they don’t care about him clunking around in the yard.  It’s me they want.  Probably dead.

~Tarah

P.S. Pictures were from my artsy fartsy session and my attempt at Bokeh photography.  Really, it’s just making the light in your photos blurry, at least that’s my simpleton way of looking at it.  I was getting those photos into this post whether I was talking about my photography or not…damnit…

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