Raid on the Sumacs

TODAY is one of my favorite days of the holiday season. It's a day that can't be scheduled with a calendar, or even by the weather. You never know when you get out of bed if it's going to be the day or not, and sometimes until as late as dusk it might seem like just another early December day. But when the birds start to get their drink on, you know it's that day.

It's as if every berry in the neighborhood has suddenly ripened in the exact same instant. Like one minute it's just a regular winter day and then the next minute it's the manic day the birds get drunk. The berries on the Sumacs out our dining room window are favorites for sure. But the birds are also ravaging the shade trees on the parking strip and beating the bushes across the street-- just bouncing from branch to branch kicking up a king hell racket, half-mad on high-proof fermented juice. If the birds were armed, they would shoot their guns in the air. They don't give a damn...

Late this morning we watched with delight as the Robins and Sparrows raided the last of the Sumacs. The Flicker danced atop the crown of the Habsnag, clearly out of his fool bird mind. The little green humming bird zipped here and there doing her usual speed freaky pattern and even the Red-Breasted Sap Sucker showed up to peck fiendishly into the upper reaches of the Douglas Fir as if to say 'there's got to be some more of that shit in here, man! Gimme that!'

The party raged into the afternoon, but eventually the still dried up and the birds crawled away to sleep it off. Tomorrow is New Year's Day for them-- a day to rise late and ice their tiny aching skulls. Tomorrow will be a day of reflection and of listening sheepishly to the stories of the crazy capers they hatched the day before, when they were blind drunk and free. Tomorrow we won't see much of the birds, as they slowly return to their regular bird routines-- just killing time till next year when the leaves have rid the trees and the berries are once again ripe for their fleeting pleasures.