BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 52 Christmas on the Mountain

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the stars are burning bright
when the cool dark of December
spreads into the blackened night.

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the snowflakes twirl and swirl
when the cool dark of December
turns each flake into a pearl.

When it’s Christmas on the mountain,
the wild creatures run to play
in the cool dark of December
on the eve of Christmas Day.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

Birds in the snow

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Banner Mountain Girl # 33

From my journal . . . dated 1980 . . . random thoughts

Days that come as bright as the golden sun filtering from a blue sky. Sun that filters from a blue sky. Sparkles of sun that sifts down in lines that eaglets follow. Birds opening their beaks, reaching for food. Worms. Food for birds. Birds singing. Happy birds. Birds have problems, too. Keep the cat away. Keep the people away from the nest of eggs or baby birds. Many kinds of birds. They sing with different melodies. They are beautiful. They are of many colors. Yellow, black, orange, red, blue, purple.

A million blackbirds flew over the house. They made a huge shadow when they were in the sunlight. They alighted on the bare limbs of the gigantic oak tree. They looked like big leaves on the tree. They all flew to the ground. They looked like a big black carpet.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

A bird in flight.

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 23 Birds

Birds of many colors
spread your wings to fly
upward to the treetops
on up into the sky.
Birds with sweetest voices
sing now across the way
begin a happy melody
in every heart today.

© Freeda Baker Nichols
redbirdMrs. RedbirdDowny WoodpeckerOld-world FinchBlack capped chickadeeTufted Titmouse - 2
bluebirddoveDSC_0308 (7)cropped-dsc_0187-21.jpgrobin-- cold morning - 1Eagle at Banner Mt.bluebird on rain gaugewoodpecker in flight

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL#21

Pairs of birds

grackles, mourning doves, blue jays and redbirds

These colorful birds visit my yard often. The birds that I remember when I was a child at Banner Mountain were not the same as these.  They were mockingbirds, hummingbirds, sparrows, crows, hawks, owls and purple martins. My older siblings often told the story of how they would go look at a bird’s nest in an old tree. They said it was the nest of a “yellow-hammer” and it was built in an old “snag,” which meant it was in an old hollow tree. But I have no idea what kind of bird it was. My siblings went every day to see the baby birds. By researching, I’ve learned the yellowhammer is Alabama’s state bird, which is a northern flicker or yellow-shafted flicker. Or as one source says, they were birds with yellow patches under their wings. I can only imagine how beautiful those birds and baby birds must have been. I wish I could have seen them but they lived in the old snag tree before I was born. And to this day, I have not seen a yellowhammer bird. ~~Freeda Baker Nichols

BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL #13

WOODPECKER

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This red-bellied woodpecker has grabbed a bite of food and is lifting off in flight to wherever he is nesting. The ever-present sparrow at the lower right corner of the photo huddles quietly, awaiting the departure of the bossy woodpecker. Blue jays are often rude and aggressive wild birds, but even they move away from the woodpecker when he flies in.

Bluejayswoodpecker in flight

I don’t recall woodpeckers at Banner Mountain. But they probably were there. My favorite birds were the mockingbirds and the whippoorwills. I remember the red-tail hawk that circled the sky, whistling, and looking for chickens to catch. Mama sent me outside many times to scare the hawk away. We had lots of sparrows around our homeplace. And there were quail. Crows, too, and owls. The hummingbirds were the most entertaining. They hovered over the honeysuckle and raided the sweet nectar in the colorful hollyhocks that Mama planted by the garden fence. Once I found an abandoned bird’s nest that hung down from a limb like a sock.  I don’t know what kind of bird built the nest. But it was an awesome find for a child who would grow up to become a writer with a big imagination.

© Freeda Baker Nichols