The birds are quiet. What’s up with that? I sat on the patio and counted a dozen birds flitting from tree to tree or just perched on limbs, and not a one of them uttered a sound. Like something from BIRDS. They didn’t seem to be looking at me. I hope not. Today I watched two blue jays and a squirrel playing tag. The squirrel run up and down the trunk, leaped from limb to limb, and the birds sort of danced in air, landed here and there around the squirrel but immediately flew up again as he continued his acrobatics. And not one note was sounded. Come on. Jays are shouters. They scream even when they’re happy. If they had been after the squirrel, trying to drive it away, they would have been dive-bombing and yelling their heads off. But they didn’t.
Maybe they’re all waiting for the leaves to pop out so they can sing their songs behind the protection of green foliage. Don’t know. But for now they are quiet. Makes me want to whistle.