I know. The title of this post evokes Alfred Hitchcock, Jimmy Stewart, Grace Kelly, and murder. However my rear window is a lot different from the one portrayed in the movie. Instead of giving a view of a neighbor’s apartment, my rear window looks out into the backyard and the forest just beyond.
However, I will admit that from time to time there is murder. We have bird feeders in the backyard, and occasionally a hawk or an owl will attack one of the many rodents or birds that come to eat. Not something I care to see or dwell on, but of course predators have to make their living, too.
Mostly, however, aside from some harmless squabbling, there is relative peace at the feeders. The rear window in our bathroom gives me a perfect view of the birds and animals, and it serves as a sort of blind. If I raise the windows ever so slowly, I don’t scare any of the creatures, and I am able to get some pretty good shots with my wee wonder of a camera.
Here is a picture of a nuthatch and a goldfinch. The nuthatch appears to have a seed in its beak, and I love the black dot of the eye set in white. If you look closely, you will notice a fizz of snow going across the feeder. Yes, it was spitting snow again, but it is after all February in Maine, which means that we are only halfway through winter.
Squirrels, of course, come to our feeders as well, and we even throw a bit of seed on the ground for them and for the other animals that feed on the ground. I know squirrels are not universally loved by those who feed birds, but as long as they don’t raid the feeders, then I don’t mind them at all. In fact, I enjoy watching them. On the feeder by the squirrels, there is a baffle on the pole that does a fine job of ensuring that the seed goes to the birds.
I’m always tickled with the way the stalks of bee balm look against the snow. They remind me of the legs of some skittering animal that perhaps comes to life at night, when no humans are looking. Then, at dawn, it returns to its snow nest, and only the spindly legs are visible.
Finally, here is a shot of the cool, green, mysterious forest that begins at the edge of our yard. While I love the colors of spring, summer, and fall, I also am taken with the muted colors of winter. I find them restful, soothing even. To me, winter is a welcome respite from the joyous burst of life—birth, growth, and preparation—that the other seasons bring.