Little Jimmy Dickens never met our bluebirds or he would have changed the lyrics to his 1965 novelty hit song from “Bird of Paradise” to “Bluebird of Georgia.” Have you ever heard Johnny Carson’s comedic curse, uttered at his audience for laughing when his side-kick, Ed McMahon, announced the end of any Carnac episode? The insults ranged from elephants stepping on your feet to the famous “May the bird of paradise fly up your nose.” Little Jimmy Dickens took the resulting ditty, written by Neal Merrit, to 18 weeks on the Billboard pop chart. Personally, I think he could have used our pretty little bluebirds instead.
Understanding and protecting the pretty blue and orange songbirds that crash into our front window for hours on end, startling us every single time they hit the glass panes, has us in a predicament. It is always hard to assimilate the idealistic image of perfection and happiness with the aggravation and distaste of reality. The guilt one feels toward disliking the pretty birds is distressing, but the pretty, fluttery images of happiness and love are really hard to live with. Really, wipe off your shoes and come on in.
They arrive back in middle Georgia in late spring, just in time for the nesting season. Actually, it is their first of three nesting seasons they’ll have once they’re back in our neighborhood. Luckily for us, they tend to abandon their first nest and move on to deface someone else’s front porch once the first brood leaves the nest. Where do they love to nest? Under our roof of course, right over our front door. They love the tiny ledge where the soffit meets the fascia, preferably in a corner. If you don’t know where the soffit or the fascia is you are probably a renter.
The piles of mud that inexplicably appear on your front porch are the first indicator the universal symbols of peace and friendship have decided to honor your home with their presence. You instinctively look up only to find the underside of your soffit stained with streaks of mud as the little birds prove they are capable of carrying far more than they weigh. Quick! Get the hose and blast it off there! Don’t let them get a nest started. If you do, you’ll be like us when we first moved in to our house.
The nest wasn’t there when we did our final walk-through before closing on the house, but by the time we moved in they had not only built a nest, but filled it with three eggs as well. I had to use a stepladder and my cellphone as a camera to see inside the nest, but once I found it had eggs, it was off-limits, untouchable until the fledglings flew the nest. I decided, after cleaning the stoop for a month, the only way to prevent it from happening again was to build a decorative barrier or trim that left them no space to build their mud and straw refuge in the future. But life gets in the way, and once they left and I removed the empty nest, I completely forgot about the pretty little birds that pooped regularly in front of my door. Until two weeks ago, and I found I again needed the garden hose to clean my porch. They were back.
The battle has been in full swing. They are tenacious creatures. No sooner do I wash down the soffit than one of them flutters in and smears the pristine white paint trim with more dirty red clay. My homeowners association would definitely not approve red or any other mud on the front of the house and I don’t care much for it, either. I searched my garage for something I could fit on the ledge that would prevent them from getting any kind of foothold, but after spending an afternoon mounting diagonal pieces of Styrofoam to block the ledge, I found they weren’t deterred. The smearing and droppings continued, they just spread it further around the porch! I said they were persistent.
My neighbor suggested I paint the ceiling sky blue to fool them into thinking they were out in the open, but I don’t want a blue ceiling. That would almost be as distasteful as the dripping mud. Besides, I don’t think it would fool the messy transients for even a minute. Yesterday I mounted full size panels around the inside of the alcove ceiling so there is no flat space left for the little stinkers, er, symbols of peace and happiness, to form a foothold. They have flown in, hovered, and flown out several times now. I’ll check daily for the next several weeks, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see a nest sticking out from the wall on stilts.
You think I’m being unfair? You think I’m not Eco-friendly? We, who had alligators in our backyard, opossums in our pump house, and bobcats under our mailbox, not co-existants with nature? [I just made up the word coexistant to describe a participant of coexistence as there is currently no word in English for that particular noun. I don’t want to use coexistent as that is a state or condition, not a member or participant. Really, Google “one who coexists” and let me know what you come up with. I’ll happily credit you with my edification.]
My 15 year old granddaughter suggested coexister, which is far more accurate than Google’s Co-pilot, their AI program, which came back with this jewel:
Copilot
Certainly! A person who coexists with others can be described in various ways, depending on the context. Here are some terms you might find relevant:
Conciliator: A conciliator is someone who helps different parties or groups find common ground and peacefully coexist by resolving conflicts or disputes.
Harmonizer: A harmonizer promotes unity and balance, allowing diverse elements to coexist in a harmonious way.
Peacemaker: A peacemaker actively works to maintain peace and understanding among individuals or groups, ensuring they can coexist without conflict.
Tolerant Individual: Someone who practices tolerance and acceptance, allowing others to live alongside them despite differences.
Remember that these terms emphasize different aspects of coexistence, but they all reflect the idea of living together harmoniously. 🌟🤝
If you need more synonyms or have any other questions, feel free to ask!😊
Well, may the bird of paradise fly up your nose! No, wait, wait, how about, may the bluebirds of Georgia fly up your nose! There. That’s perfect.
May The Bird Of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose – Written 1965 by Neal Merritt
Sung by Little Jimmy Dickens
George
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