Momma, is that you?

Momma, is that you?

As I sit inside my garage with it’s door parcially opened, I observe the beautiful purple shiny black Grackle’s, with their bright white pea eyes, I made some nice observations, a pecking order, and, the injured, ignored as an unwanted border.

When they gather at my door, they love the unsalted, dry roasted peanuts that I serve, always returning for more. I have noticed that the Alpha male, is saluted by the flock by turning their beaks straight up to the Sky, it is a form of submission as seen in much of the annimal world, such as the Wolf, the females, and, the young males, lay down before the dominant male, prsenting their throats, risking instant death at the site with one bite.

Back to my pets, the Grackle’s, they march into the garage, one by one, they jump into the tray of nuts, happily, they crackle. Momma grabs a peanut while junior waits outside, knowing that, a treat will pass from beak to beak.

What amazes me is how amoung so many of the flock, the chick, never has to ask; Momma, is that you?
They have a programed ability from God to know each each other, mother to chick, chick to mother.

My Grackle’s are very fond of me, even though I place a good amount of peanuts outside, they prefer to strut under the door, and, into the garage, greeting me with a friendly chirp. When I must rise from my chair, I point to where I am going, they seem to understand, they even peek in my window, to see if I’m at hand.

Author Ken
June 18, 2019