I don’t have flappers like penguins to swim through the sea. I may not float on deep lakes like a duck, swan, or goose. I don’t dive deep into the water like a puffin or coot, but one thing is sure, I really like bird baths very much, too.
I am rather particular about my pool. It can’t be too deep and must be tantalizingly cool. To test its depth, I stand on the pool rim. I then have to gingerly dip my beak or foot in. If all seems safe, the first splash is next. Then I dive my head in to complete my refreshment quest. I spread my glorious wings, and then the wing flaps follow. I feel confident about my tryst, because the pool depth is adequately shallow.
I also don’t hesitate to take a good shower, but if the shower stream is too strong, it might force me to cower. No, I like small droplets of rain or maybe thin streams of water, a sink faucet works great, and then I dry off with a violent feather shake.
I knew of a small bird who was entranced by the bathroom shower. He sat on the shower curtain rod like a naughty voyeur. He looked down at Cindy while she washed her hair and body, but she smiled knowing his mind was not really in the potty. He just wanted to join in the fun and once flew down to her head, but got soap in his eyes and scared her instead. Sorry no photo of that little scene, but I won’t post pornography, I’m keeping it clean.
I’m a king who flies around in the forest, not a fish with many fins. But as I described before, I can transform into a water goblin.
Written in loving memory of my budgie (the voyeur), my shallow pool loving Pacific Parrotlet, and all of the wonderful wild birds that have taken a dip in our bird bath.