m wood pen

i like to draw

M WOOD PATTERN BIRDS FEETTo the dismay of my youngest child, I’ve encouraged the habitation of a posse of little birds that nest and chirp near my mudroom porch. Her reasons for panic are justified. I’m also a big film buff, and treated my children to a Friday night of Alfred Hitchcock classics ages ago. It never occurred to me that seeing Suzanne Pleshette, Tippi Hedren, Angela Cartwright, Jessica Tandy and hunky Rod Taylor battling flocks of violently menacing birds amidst blood-curdling screams would scar my very brave daughter, but, well, the sight of birds triggers a no-nonsense ptsd reaction in her.

Despite that, once my own nest was emptied by the emigration of youngest to college, and city to the older two, I nestled a few cute bird feeders in a wooded, cozy spot just outside of my kitchen window. Winter white snow brought me to love the radiant red of the daddy cardinal, and the bold orange of his wife’s (or concubine’s) beak. Spring green set against the bright blue of the aggressive but gorgeously angular bluebirds brought joy to my morning coffee as I stood watching the frenzy of feathered friends feasting.

Summer, with flowers blooming, bees buzzing, and colors bursting beyond the pine frame of my barn-like windows, I had a real life Instagram-worthy window to my own little country world, filled with the flitting, singing and nibbling crew who visited each morning, midday and dusk.

And, here it is, autumn once again, and the population is thinning. Packing their bags for regions with southern twangs, a few dozen of my colorful friends are planning their winters in warmer climes, but there’s still my hardy midwestern troop who need to bulk up for the cold winds coming our way.

I step gingerly outside each morning, opening my sturdy galvanized bucket, and scoop a generous helping of wild bird seed into my bright red tin pitcher. Their singsong greetings tell me that they know it’s time for breakfast, and as soon as I step back inside, the flitting flip flip sound of wings and crunching crack of sunflowers follows me inside to my warm, cozy kitchen.

So, for one who used to be neutrally aware of birds, I’m now silently fascinated by their every move. And in honor of this ornithological love of mine, I created the wacky Birds of a Feather pattern, and am sending it out to the universe via this blog post to see if it catches the fancy of a fellow bird lover. Hey, licensing buyers, how’d you like to bounce this bird pattern back in the form of some really cool wallpaper, home goods , textiles, bedding or paper goods?

I’m game.


%d bloggers like this: