Black Phoebe

_{(Art ©2010 Sarah René Straub. Do not copy or use without my permission.)
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When I was a child, there was a large apple tree in the yard behind my house. Every spring it would bloom, but never bare any fruit (unlike the crabapple trees nearby that always made a rotting mess). I used to shake the branches just to watch the petals of the apple blossoms fall around me like so much confetti. I stopped shaking the branches when one day I noticed a tiny bird with a funny crest and white belly nesting in the tree. My brother, who enjoyed bird-watching, told me they were black phoebes. From then on, rather than watch the petals of the apple blossoms fall, I would instead watch the funny birds as they flitted about, hopping here and there and shaking dew off of their feathered heads. Black phoebes became a favorite of mine and I remember them fondly whenever I look at this drawing I made one nostalgic afternoon.

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