I've heard that Cedar Waxwings are back in town. If they don't come back to my weeping yaupon tree this year, I may weep myself.
For the last two years, I've watch the spectacle from my office window as they descend upon this tree and strip every last berry from its branches. And all in a matter of hours.
Waxwing with her cool black mask
I'm starting to stress that either they are going to skip their annual stopover on their way back north or that I'm going to come home from a trip to the market (or worse, work) and see the tree without its berried ornamentation.
Come on, Waxwings! Keep me on your official/unofficial underground railroad. And come when I'm home.