Magpies In The Morning

There is a little ditch that separates us from the field to the north. A couple of wooden planks serve as a bridge; I just crossed it to toss the kitchen leavings out in the fallow field (the ants were starting to sell tickets to the apple core from our dessert this evening).

We’ve just starting putting these leavings a few meters over to the east, where they can be seen easily from the kitchen window. For birds that are so raucous, yellow-billed magpies are surprisingly flittish, but the windows work well as blinds.

The other day we tossed out on the field some stale, undercooked white rice. The magpies descended upon it the next morning, flying off with chunks so their neighbor bird wouldn’t be tempted to snag their particular chunk.

One is for sorrow, two is for joy. A solitary magpie is indeed a sad thing—they like their social lives after all!