Judy Iacuzzi

During the pandemic birds are abundant, feeding, bathing, flying close. A couple of robins built a nest on our deck, laid three eggs, and the one that survived fledged Juneteenth, my birthday! We had given over the deck to them after they’d dive-bombed us a few times, sending a clear message. Instead we watched – for weeks --their tender care through a nearby window. At the end we saw her in the garden teaching a distracted, fluffy youngster how to worm.

I’ve had this book, published by US Fish and Wildlife in 1949, on many bookshelves as we’ve switched homes over the years. It needs repair. The binding is shot; the jacket, threadbare. But inside Gabrielson’s Colored Bird Guide are beautiful paintings of 114 feathered creatures and their roosts.

Better, are my mother’s annotations above 33 of them. Her warm-weather calendar from 1950 to 1952.

In her loopy up-and-down cursive she noted where and when each sighting occurred.

            - Spotted Sandpiper, Shaker Lakes, May 1950 (near home)

            - Tufted titmouse, Kirtland, 13th hole, June 1950 (golf course)

            - Cedar waxwing, Mullet Lake, Michigan, April 19, 1950 (vacation)

            - Yellow warbler, Willoughby farm lane, 1952. (near home)

            - Robin, Yes…Yes – (too many sightings to specify one -- my guess)

Some pages carry two notations --  hers and another in imitative, loopy up-and-down handwriting. Though I vaguely remember the May 1962 visit to the Holden arboretum, I know the notes are mine because Mother died of cancer in 1956.

This year before I put it back on the bookshelf, I scribbled beneath her robin annotation,

            -Yes…Yes…mom, dad and fledge, Evanston deck, June 19, 2020.

Judy Iacuzzi—a writer, association executive, marketing professional, tennis teacher, and nature lover, is  currently working on a novel.