The threat of weekend snow in the high country brought birds seeking refuge in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman was thankful for the patronage during an otherwise slow season.
Snow?
Color
Scrubby dropped in for a bath at his favorite watering hole the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The venerable sage, the Face of Everyman, couldn’t have been more pleased to have the bit of color he brought with him.
Fisticuffs
Who would blink first as two veteran scavengers face off in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman always disliked this behavior.
Warning
Hark! The Tsunami warning klaxon has been activated. “This is not a test. All guests at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa should seek higher ground”. These two are awaiting further instructions. the Face of Everyman planned to hold his breath for as long as needed.
Photo Shoot
The photo shoot was to be for an Audubon calendar; but his feathers failed to dry by the time his turn was up. Bosworth could stand in line for a later time but the line at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa seemed endless. the Face of Everyman exhausted by the activity was glad this was only a yearly event.
Diverted
Earlier a crush of pigeons had diverted the flow of water and with their splashing had emptied the bathing pond. Elsworth felt cheated. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa wasn’t living up to its reputation. the face of Everyman could only say that help was on the way.
King Tide
The King tide forced everybody, except the Face of Everyman, to higher ground. Few homes, in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa were flooded. The venerable sage had to pump out his basement. He marked his calendar for the next one.
Oblivious
Even with his years of experience the Face of Everyman braced himself for every drenching. The guests at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa seemed oblivious to the pain and suffering he endured.
Ice
As the sun began to rise there seemed no place someone could get warm. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa lent itself to an early freeze. At Leroy’s feet a thin layer of ice formed. the Face of Everyman couldn’t recall that happening since 1890. Yikes!
Scrub-Jay
The kindly ol’ pensioner soon heard from one of his Foreign Correspondents, an avid birdwatcher in far off Paris. It seems that the venerable sage and the “k ol’ p” had been too quick in their identification of this visitor. What might be thought of as subtle markings by some, were in fact, to the trained eye obvious and key to the correct identification of this sub species of Jay. Hopefully, dear gentle readers and followers the level of Blogger accuracy will improve even in this remote part of the Pacific flyway.
torkelsbirds 