One of the happiest things about gardening is the birds that flock over to keep me company. Sparrows flutter over, of course, joined by doves, robins, cardinals, and blue jays. The birds take turns perching on our fence and swooping over to peck at the bird feeder, where they scatter sunflower seeds into my herb bed, giving impromptu seedlings to the rambling circle of mint (planted in pots to combat its invasive nature), licorice basil, sage, Roman chamomile, lupine and delphinium.
An older friend of mine who came for dinner and tea told me that a robin used to keep her company in England as she gardened ("Robins are smaller in England,") she emphasized. The robin followed her down rows, puttering in the upturned soil for worms.
What better gardening companion: a red-breasted, gentle bird who cares nothing for bills, bedtimes, world disaster and turmoil, but only for a worm now and then, the patter of rain in a warm garden, a well-built nest and an extra handful of seed.
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