Goodfellows52: A good egg and my son remembers his dad

Goodfellows52: A good egg and my son remembers his dad: Mom on the nest and she's won't budge. A mad mom keeps a watchful eye on the home owner who  trying to get a go...

Goodfellows52: A good egg and my son remembers his dad

Goodfellows52: A good egg and my son remembers his dad: A mad mom keeps a watchful eye on the home owner who  trying to get a good look at her nest and the egg inside it. A Baltim...

A good egg and my son remembers his dad

Mom on the nest and she's won't budge.

A mad mom keeps a watchful eye on the home owner who  trying to get a good look at her nest and the egg inside it.

A Baltimore Oriole hangs around my blossoming cherry tree.

AUBURN, Maine – Every spring, I inspect my green hedges that surround my front yard, searching for nests with an egg in it.

The nests are usually empty, but I discovered one several days ago with an egg laying there, apparently abandoned by mom and dad.

But as I moved closer to examine my exciting find like an eight-year-old child, a large mockingbird let out a screech, warning me to back off.

The mother was peering down at me from high up in my blossoming cherry tree — and she meant business.

I slowly moved away, never taking my eyes off mom for fear of being dive bombed by the angry parent. Getting picked off by one of our fine-feathered friends hurts.

“Take it easy, mom,” I said. “Have no fear, ma’am. I am just another curious hominid marveling at your offspring like a little boy.”

Mom wasn’t buying my explanation, stood her ground and gave me the evil eye.

I surrendered the high ground and went back inside my home to watch from the window to see if this protective mockingbird would return to her nest.

She did and nestled in to keep her vigil.

Our front lawn draws a variety birds because those hedges act like a natural barrier between cats and other predators that can’t penetrate the protective thicket and strike at our winged friends.

Each spring, a pair of mockingbirds return to hang out there, chasing away other birds with a vengeance as they nest in my hedges. 

That’s why we have bird seed and sewett hanging on poles in the middle of the front lawn. They put on show just five yards from our picture window.

I have witnessed mockingbirds shooing away large crows and blue jays. Fearless mockingbirds are the neighborhood bullies who stake out their turf without mercy.

But I always enjoy nature’s live show in front of our picture window.

The return of birds in the spring reminds me that I survived another harsh Maine winter and have another opportunity to enjoy a splendid summer and fall.

Anyday above ground is a good day.

What a son of a gun

The past year, Anthony, a University of Maine at Farmington junior, co-hosted a two-hour afternoon show on WUMF — the school’s radio station can be heard on the Internet.

During his last show of the season this week, Anthony decided to play “Sarah” on Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk” as a tribute to his old man.

So what’s the big deal, you ask.

Well hear out a dedicated father for a moment, please!

Being the family storyteller and a journalist, I have been feeding Anthony’s stories of our lives since our son dashed down the hallway in a diaper.

Anthony enjoys stories from our past. I told him about my radio show at Norwich University in Vermont. We had recently got the album “Tusk.”

I played “Sarah” that evening and was sure the band had another hit coming its way.

Anthony returned the favor last Tuesday. 

That’s what sons do for their fathers.