Goldfinches on the feeder
It’s been a good week in the garden. We now have an established population of Goldfinches and when they aren’t on the feeders we can often hear them singing in the area. No wonder they were so popular as songbirds in Victorian times.
This morning we had a young one on the feeder, so they are even bringing the kids to meet us. They are streaky and lack the facial markings of an adult.
Earlier in the week we had our first Greenfinch. They are grumpy-looking bird at the best of times and this one appeared to get even grumpier as it struggled to get out of the squirrel-proof feeder. They are bulkier than a Goldfinch and lack their dexterity. However, she (for I believe it is a female, judging by the plumage) seemed to get used to the feeder and was soon back in it.
Greenfinches have always been fairly common at previous feeding stations I have had but took a hit a few years ago after a virus swept through them. That’s why we do a lot of feeder cleaning these days. Chaffinches were also affected, and despite them once being a very common bird we are yet to see one in the garden.
I also had an acceptance. I had to wait a while for this one but it was worth it. I sent off nine submissions last month. All results are in now, seven successful, two not. Or, if you just count editors/magazines seven submissions and seven acceptances, as both the unsuccessful submissions were to magazines with editorial boards that accepted one of the forms I submitted but left another.
Even better, two of the three haibun I had accepted had been rejected last month. That’s what people say – rejection is only the opinion of one editor on one particular day. However from seven out of nine to nought out of eight, is a very fine line. past performance is no guarantee of future success.
Greenfinch on the fence
I also got my new driving license today. The photograph takes years off me, as my beard is no longer white. It was definitely white when I took the picture. However, that’s the least of my worries, as I still look like a Balkan gangster. I wouldn’t mind if I looked like a high-level one, but I look like the sort of gangster who guards doors.
And finally, a Peacock butterfly sunning itself on the bungalow next door.




