The Birds

I sat down in Dupont Circle today with my Well-dressed Burrito in hand, all ready to catch up on some blogging while chowing down in the sun. All of DC seemed to be having the same idea. There were young female coordinators eating salads in sun-dresses and chatting over the shouts of the rowdy chess players, two homeless guys were lazily fanning themselves on a couple of benches, and quite a few young men in shirts-sleeves were gossiping good naturedly by the fountain.

A few birds landed near by me as I started my lunch and all seemed right in the world. That was until five minutes later, when I looked up and counted nineteen (wrens? wood thrushes? chicadees?) flopping down near me and pretending to burrow or look for worms in what was obviously bone-dry, over-worked dirt. After a few minutes, they gave up all attempts at pretense and blatantly glared at me for handouts while a couple of hefty pigeons waddled over like bouncers. The thrushes reacted by trying to muscle morsels out of me by buzzing my shady spot with dives and swoops. I didn’t know whether to ignore them or run for my life.

Know thine enemy I say, and since I was a 30 minute walk away from my Boy Scout manual, the “North American Bird Photo Gallery” came in pretty handy. Turns out the bullies in Dupont Circle are “Spizella arborea” or American tree sparrows. You’ve been warned.