The Ladies Page

COUNTRY ECHOES


| May/June 1967



2, Brandon, Wisconsin 53919

There is a possibility that I should wait a few days longer before I start writing this column. Perhaps some one has found my wild myrtle in their woods at one time or another and haven't had time to write to me about it. Already one letter has come from a lady who helps 'to get the Iron Men Album in the mail' and I surely appreciated getting it. But she did not know anything about my wild myrtle.

It is amazing how unexpected things come into our lives, however. I have not given up on this at all. On a recent Monday morning I looked out of my south window, and here were some strange dark birds in the flowering crab tree. They were gorging themselves on the little dried-up apples which were still clinging to the tree.

'What,' I said to myself, 'are those?' Here was this crest on the head which could only belong to the family of waxwings, but this was no cedar waxwing, I decided. Our daughter Mary was at home for semester break and she was as interested as her mother. So here were two women who went walking most carefully on a winter morning, creeping up to these unknown birds with the stealth of an Indian on the path of a scalp he wanted.

It must have been a strange sight but this didn't deter us in the least. We were so afraid they would take to their wings as we approached but we found them not the least bit wary. I wondered if, perhaps, they were a bit groggy from the over-ripe apples for I had read where robins occasionally get a bit intoxicated from eating berries which have aged on the wood. They posed for us with their crested heads cocked saucily to one side. We decided they liked us.

Mary, becoming very brave and exceedingly friendly moved to a spot directly underneath the tree. 'Oh Mother,' she said, 'There is a light brown patch underneath their tails.'