Flap, Grackle, Stop!

The Great-tailed Grackle perched on the roof of my car like it was his. I stopped right when he started to tense for flight. I didn't want him to leave. I just wanted to look at him.

He was a big boy. Just having that imposing presence on the car gave me pause, something like Poe's Lenore devotee. Nevermore.

He seemed to know I was headed for him, even though I took small steps. He took his own sized steps toward the other side of the car. Finally he had personal space issues (this is an American bird, after all) and took off.

I was asked the other day which I liked better: cats or birds. Sometimes the simplest questions are the most difficult to answer. I think that's because good answers are rarely simple.

In the sense intended, I like cats better. Cats, to me, are the ideal pets when treated with the proper mixture of respect and subordination.

But this grackle had the kind of mystery that keeps one spellbound. Where will he go next? Why does he do what he does? I like birds because they are not to be known easily or completely.

For instance, why do grackles hang out in gender-specific groups? I often see small congregations of female grackles and, less frequently, groups of males. But very rarely have I seen mixed company. Does anyone know why?