This morning, eyes down, surveying the dirt for precocious bulb shoots tricked by the lack of snow, my eye caught site of this bold but small feather. Perfection. Found art. An artistic artifact. Nestled into the weathered end grain of logs slowly succumbing to the sirencall of weather — rain, sun, snow, wind — and time.
Perhaps you can affirm or refute my suspicion that this bold souvenir was left by a flicker? Or another bird altogether?
Found Feather Haiku
I found the feather —
mottled, black, white, contrast crisp —
tucked into end grain.
A Guttering of Flickers
A single bird left this monochrome testament. But a flock of flickers invite my enthusiastic imagination.
In the winter, up to a dozen birds will gather in the yard and hang out. They will all just sit together quietly. Such a group is called a “menorah,” “guttering” or a “Peterson” of Flickers.
(Source: Northern Flicker Paradigms)
A guttering of flickers, one feather fewer than when they arrived to survey the first hints of springtime.
If not a flicker, then who left this artwork for me to find?
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