Chick-a-dee-dee-dee. The unmistakable song of the small bird in the black and white habit speaks its piece nearby. Following the sound until the eyes focus on its safe perch within the shrubs, under the feeder. Flitting from branch to branch, pecking at tasty morsels as it goes. Feeding on bits of this and that left behind on the limbs. Always watching through the bare, leafless bush and then it’s gone. Darting across open ground to safe refuge in the trees nearby. Once again its identifying sound announces it has landed. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee.
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