|And that's all the illustration you're going to get for THAT.|
So here's a big Getting Old irritation -- the way nouns escape you. It's always nouns one can't think of -- the name of the person you're talking about, the great dish at the restaurant, the title of that movie. Never mind telling me it's bothering you even at your age -- trust me, that's nothing like what will happen in your later years.
I don't notice it on days when I'm home alone, no problem. I know what I'm thinking about. But when I try to write -- yesterday I noted in my journal that the catbird is still skulking at the suet feeder, and also at the feeder, which is unusual, is a ....well, I kept typing in a sort of stream of consciousness, and here's what the journal entry looks like:
Particularly good birds at the feeder today. Catbird still out here. Also -- other bird I think it's rare to see at a feeder, don't remember seeing that before in all these years, but if course I forget things these days. Very common black bird – yellow bill, speckles, damn it can’t find its name.
Couldn't remember words a lot in conversations with Amy yesterday. Don’t notice at all when I’m alone of course, because I know what the bird is. Common as sparrows.
See them lined up on telephone wires. Latin name sternus vulgaris. Easy to remember because they have so little tail, can’t think of English name. Related to robins, sometimes see in flocks of migrants with them.
Big swarms, Norm and I once parked to watch a swarm near St. Catherines in Ontario. I think it begins with S. Introduced, not native. Very common. European farmers prize their song.
I could write a whole dissertation on this bird but what is its name?
And so on for several paragraphs, and then out of nowhere:
Big sigh of relief.
And by the way -- while Google offered me hundreds of pictures of starlings, not one of them was shown at a feeder. That at least was reassuring.