Shelter in Place, San Francisco, California

Every time that I’ve gone back from California to my Minnesota and Pennsylvania haunts, I’ve been greeted by the bird songs that make me feel I’m “home.” It appears there are few of those old familiar songbirds in Northern California and those that do live in these parts seem to visit our house less often with every passing spring. We think it’s because of the backyard cats, but I’ve heard others in the city worry about the growing silence, too. Hummingbirds, we have, but they don’t sing. We still see and hear big birds - the crows, scrub jays, gulls and an occasional hawk - even, rarely, one of the famed wild parrots that are part of San Francisco lore. But the sweet songs that were, for me, the soundtrack of summer and spring, simply are not here. I miss them - especially now when I can’t get on a plane. In this season of pandemic ‘Zooming,” and as the weather warms back east, I look forward to the bird songs in the background of the chats I have almost as much as the faces of my family and friends.

John knows this. He has lived here longer and is not as attuned to the loss, but he is sensitive to my complaints and always aims to please. So when he saw this stamped steel bird advertised the other day, he ordered it and installed it in the garden. A woodpecker, too. This roadrunner (aptly named Greater Californianus) cannot offer me a song of spring, but now, I’m glad to say, the fence belongs to him.