Eagle Eyed Birdies

I've never spent much time (any at all, actually) considering the supposed supersonic eyesight of birds.  'Eagle eyed' and 'birds-eye view' roll effortlessly off the tongue without using a single kilojoule of brain energy considering the factual basis of the idioms.

We do enjoy feeding our feathered garden aviators, however, and installed a smart penthouse feeder well out of cat paw reach. The local feed merchant makes a fortune out of the seed I buy from him because one thing is for sure about birds, when they find an easy source of food they call a friend.  Or several dozen.

You can tell when my mind is having an 'off this planet' moment because the things that engage my thoughts at times....  For instance, how do the birds know the pantry is open today?

Picture the scene.  I've been away for several months and the fly-through diner closed.  The diner is a wooden platform with four pillars bearing a roof, so a bird's eye view doesn't come into play here, it's impossible to see from overhead whether the buffet is stocked or not.

Fickle friends as they are, the birds have absconded from our garden during the famine and not a single one is to be seen when I pile a jug of seed onto the table. One thing I did notice is that the price of birdseed has increased by 30% during my absence, so the recipients of this largess had better up their entertainment game accordingly.

Just add oranges then grub's up!

 It took 20 minutes, then first the Bronze Mannikins pulled in en masse,
followed by the African Doves and a Pin Tailed Whydah all in a'flutter.  

How?  How did they know lunch was served?  Do they have a freakish sense of smell to rival a hyena?  Or X-Ray vision like some feathered Superhero?  For months there was nothing on the table and I thought they'd left the 'hood.  Perhaps they left a sentinel to keep a lookout for the feast?

It's a mystery to me and I hope that some knowledgeable twitcher can enlighten me.  

20 minutes later

In a different vein, but reminded by the 'eagle eye' thing, do you remember your child's first 'dirty' joke?  We all recall where we were when Mandela walked free, Princess Diana died and the Twin Towers sank into dust, and most good parents remember the moments of first teeth, first steps and so on.  I have notes in the baby books to tell me those things, the dates and moments escape me.  Big blush, bad mother.

Being a working mum, the first step moments in our house were witnessed by Francina Twala, beloved second mum to both boys and the person who kept it all together in our home.  I was met at the front door by a beaming face and excited chatter about how No 1, and then No 2, had passed the milestone.  Like all mothers do, I burst into tears but unlike good mothers, my tears weren't about missing those first steps but the twang as yet another apron string was cut.

No, in my upside down motherly role, I remember their first naughty jokes. Is that normal?  No 1 confronted me one evening while I wallowed in a hot bubble bath, clutching a book and a glass of wine.  Oh, for those pre-reading glass days when reading in the bath was possible!  A treat lost indeed.

The joke was about a jungle warrior wounded in battle.  He'd lost an eye, his right arm, his left leg and the appendage men are most concerned with.  The witchdoctor replaced his missing bits with the eye of an eagle, the arm of a gorilla, a cheetah's leg and yes, an elephant's trunk.  Checking progress during the follow up consultation, the warrior reported he could see very, very far, throw his spear very, very far, outrun all his enemies but oh, dear, his trunk kept picking grass and stuffing it up his you-know-where.

Caught between wanting to be a correct mum and enjoying the joke as much as for the acting and accents No 1 adopted in the telling, I roared with laughter and sank deep into the bubbles.   

And that, my friends, is what runs through my head when 'eye of an eagle' is mentioned.  Except now, the 'eye of a Bronze Mannikin' is mystifying me!