Luciano (Luchiaaaahno)

I am sitting here in the computer area with my laptop and my coffee.

I am being serenaded by my new bird.

I have yet to tell you about my new bird.

He is a tiny yellow bird, a canary.

I've had lots and lots of birds.

I like birds.

I've had cockatiels.

I've had parakeets.

Those kind of birds are pets.

You can teach them to talk and do tricks.

They greet you, scold you, holler at you, call to you,

and even (sometimes) thank you, when you feed them.

One had a habit of asking me if I wanted a cuppa-coffee.

Now who would teach a bird to do that?

My favorite kind has always been canaries.

They are more of an ornament than a pet.

Like a music box or a flower arrangement.

Perfect yellow gold. (I like yellow)

Beautiful, delicate, and sweet.

He is just learning how to sing. He's a baby after all.

He chirrups and he cheeps.

I used to be able to count the beats; three, sometimes five.

Meaning the length of his song.

Now he has a trill of about ten notes. All of the same notes, yet.

When he gets older he will change notes around, up the scale and down.

He's happy.

He makes me happy.

Except after breakfast.

See, canaries are very messy eaters.

They must find the extra special single seed that is at the bottom of the food dish.

Only that particular seed will do.

It is under all of the other identical seeds, but it is the one he wants.

He will dig, and toss about all of the other seeds that are in the way.

All over the floor.

Parakeets, on the other hand, are dangerously tidy.

They will place the empty husk back in the food dish.

You have to keep track.

The dish will never look empty.

I like to hang Luciano outside on the patio.

Mom says he and the local wild birds are really quite friendly.

Of course!

Wouldn't you be glad for all of the discarded seeds everywhere?