If anyone else has a backyard, and a popular bird feeder in it, they may somewhat relate to the following creative licensing. Based on the fact that a persistent nuthatch family insists upon taking up an unlicensed residence in a birdhouse meant to attract bluebirds, all that remains is to causally observe from the window. Realistically, I'm not claiming that birds speak, but rather implying that they are hard not to listen to. 
*
Do not curse the king, even in your thought; do not curse the rich, even in your bedroom; for a bird of the air may carry your voice, and a bird in flight may tell the matter. Eccl 10:20
"Everyone knows that blue jays are tattletales,” said Cackle the grackle to Sweepy the nuthatch one day in passing. “Very gossipy. I wouldn’t trust them with any secrets for the world.”
“Your best friend isn’t so silent himself,” Sweepy commented. Being a very fastidious housekeeper, Sweepy gave any clinging cobwebs near his front door a good brush with his beak. “Your friend is always announcing how red his wings are, despite his being a blackbird. I assure you, my wife and I, and all of the neighbors combined, find his wings sufficiently red and his declarations almost as obvious as they are unnecessary.”
“Everyone thinks that,” said Cackle the grackle, “but knowing him so well, I assure you that he only means to draw attention to the fact that blue jays are more obnoxious than he is.”
“It seems to me,” observed Sweepy, that of the larger set, robins are very well-grounded birds in general. And I hate to disparage smaller birds, being one myself. But between you and me, hummingbirds are a breed unto themselves. Very squirrely; can’t sit still. Take that Zoomy, who generally builds a nest not far from here. I have tried to be friendly, but can hardly get a word in before she is off to stick her head in a flower somewhere. Very odd, seems to prefer the company of bees.”
“Hummingbirds do keep nice flowerbeds,” agreed Grackle absentmindedly. He spent a moment looking around. “It’s a nice place you have here. How far are you from the bird feeder?”
“Oh, not far,” Sweepy answered, intentionally vague. He preferred not to disclose details since it was common knowledge that grackles were enormous hogs at the seedcake bar.
“Nice talking with you,” Grackle called over his wing as he flew away to look for a snack.
Some time went by in which Sweepy swept off his front porch and eves. Soon, a flash of red caught his eye.
“I need advice,” Bright Boy called to Sweepy during his incoming flight. Landing with a flare and a twitch, he turned to Sweepy. “I knew you were the most likely to be at home. I spent the entire morning trying to convince a lady friend to be impressed with me, and couldn’t interest her one bit. She ignored all of my calls.”
“Well, what were you talking about?” asked Sweepy patiently. This was a common conundrum for cardinals in general. He had spoken with many of them about this selfsame topic, just this spring.
“I wanted her to know I was in a good mood, so I kept repeating, ‘Cheer, cheer, cheer,’” said Bright Boy. “I was just trying to be honest.”
Sweepy thought for a moment. “Those are good words, and good advice. If she doesn’t like you for who you are, then there will be another girl who does. My wife has some cardinal lady friends who she speaks to every now and then.”
“Have her put in a word for me!” Bright Boy twitched happily before taking flight.
Not far from Sweepy’s front porch swayed Momma Bird in her tree. Being a robin of good sense and gravity, the limb near her nest was often a popular perch for visitors of all kinds. “We must consult Momma Bird,” was an adage not uncommon in the neighborhood. Besides that, Momma Bird had single-handedly raised numerous children, even while holding down a job in the outside lawn.
*
*
Do not curse the king, even in your thought; do not curse the rich, even in your bedroom; for a bird of the air may carry your voice, and a bird in flight may tell the matter. Eccl 10:20
"Everyone knows that blue jays are tattletales,” said Cackle the grackle to Sweepy the nuthatch one day in passing. “Very gossipy. I wouldn’t trust them with any secrets for the world.”
“Your best friend isn’t so silent himself,” Sweepy commented. Being a very fastidious housekeeper, Sweepy gave any clinging cobwebs near his front door a good brush with his beak. “Your friend is always announcing how red his wings are, despite his being a blackbird. I assure you, my wife and I, and all of the neighbors combined, find his wings sufficiently red and his declarations almost as obvious as they are unnecessary.”
“Everyone thinks that,” said Cackle the grackle, “but knowing him so well, I assure you that he only means to draw attention to the fact that blue jays are more obnoxious than he is.”
“It seems to me,” observed Sweepy, that of the larger set, robins are very well-grounded birds in general. And I hate to disparage smaller birds, being one myself. But between you and me, hummingbirds are a breed unto themselves. Very squirrely; can’t sit still. Take that Zoomy, who generally builds a nest not far from here. I have tried to be friendly, but can hardly get a word in before she is off to stick her head in a flower somewhere. Very odd, seems to prefer the company of bees.”
“Hummingbirds do keep nice flowerbeds,” agreed Grackle absentmindedly. He spent a moment looking around. “It’s a nice place you have here. How far are you from the bird feeder?”
“Oh, not far,” Sweepy answered, intentionally vague. He preferred not to disclose details since it was common knowledge that grackles were enormous hogs at the seedcake bar.
“Nice talking with you,” Grackle called over his wing as he flew away to look for a snack.
Some time went by in which Sweepy swept off his front porch and eves. Soon, a flash of red caught his eye.
“I need advice,” Bright Boy called to Sweepy during his incoming flight. Landing with a flare and a twitch, he turned to Sweepy. “I knew you were the most likely to be at home. I spent the entire morning trying to convince a lady friend to be impressed with me, and couldn’t interest her one bit. She ignored all of my calls.”
“Well, what were you talking about?” asked Sweepy patiently. This was a common conundrum for cardinals in general. He had spoken with many of them about this selfsame topic, just this spring.
“I wanted her to know I was in a good mood, so I kept repeating, ‘Cheer, cheer, cheer,’” said Bright Boy. “I was just trying to be honest.”
Sweepy thought for a moment. “Those are good words, and good advice. If she doesn’t like you for who you are, then there will be another girl who does. My wife has some cardinal lady friends who she speaks to every now and then.”
“Have her put in a word for me!” Bright Boy twitched happily before taking flight.
Not far from Sweepy’s front porch swayed Momma Bird in her tree. Being a robin of good sense and gravity, the limb near her nest was often a popular perch for visitors of all kinds. “We must consult Momma Bird,” was an adage not uncommon in the neighborhood. Besides that, Momma Bird had single-handedly raised numerous children, even while holding down a job in the outside lawn.
*
