(I Wish It Was Not A Sin ) To Kill A Mockingbird
We have a bully in our backyard. It's not the little boy who lives next door. No...our bully is of the feathered kind. Our bully is a mockingbird.
It's kind of ironic that I'm harboring such ill will toward this bird. (There actually may be more than one.) For one thing, I used to love how mockers would mimic the songs of different birds. And To Kill A Mockingbird is one of my favorite books; it's a book I read at least every other year.
But the mockingbird we have is a feathered terrorist. For some reason, he has staked out our backyard as his turf, and woe to any other bird who tries to come there to the many feeders or to build a nest in the birdhouses. My father has watched what has been going on and said the mockingbird will actually perch somewhere just outside of our feeders, watch and wait. When he sees a bird come to the feeder, he'll swoop in and chase the other bird away before the poor thing has the chance to grab a bite.
The worst objects of his wrath are, of all things, bluebirds. Now, talk about your bird that isn't aggressive. The other day one of the bluebirds came to a feeder and the mockingbird went on the attack. My Dad broke up the dustup, saying that he was certain that had no one intervened the mocker would have killed the bluebird.
In our state it may not be a sin to kill a mockingbird, but it is a crime, because they're a protected species. So for now, we're stuck with our feathered bully, and our birdhouses go unused.