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Research My Yard Birds by Stephani Artwork American Robin by Robby Red-tailed Hawk by Seth Essay Mystery Bird by Alexis Poetry Feathered Flight by Ron Puzzle Cardinal Maze by Carrie By Robby
My Yard Birds By Stephani
Stephani spotted these birds in her backyard. By Ron As I look out my window I see, There is a bird winking at me. He says "Let’s fly, we’ll soar through the sky." Then we take off, the bird and I. We fly over canyons, we fly over seas, We glide over mountains, we trek over trees. He smuggles me back to my window it seems But when I wake up, it’s only been dreams. Then as I look out my window I see, There is a bird winking at me. By Seth
By Alexis The large bird glides eerily into the cold, silent night. At dawn, it is still hunting, scanning the ground for food. The bird is beautiful and you could never tire of looking at it. As it flies, it watches keenly for the meat it craves. If you follow it long enough, you’ll find where it nests. You wonder about this bird’s secrets and life. On first glance, the bird appears to be a pure, glaring white. Milky feathers, however, are lightly dusted with darker spots, which add character. Furrowed brows make the bird look as if it is debating a big decision in its round head. A needle-like beak hints at the power of this magnificent bird. When dark yellow eyes look into yours, you tremble. (Clearly, this bird feels that you are the lesser being.) KROW-RICK! As the pale halo of a sun begins to fall in the Arctic Circle, the bird soars effortlessly in and out of clouds. Mighty wings push the frigid air back, to propell the cotton-ball in the sky forward. The wise eyes skim the line where blue meets white, looking for mice, lemmings, and a snowy rabbit or two. At the sight of an unfortunate little animal, the silent bird falls to the ground and outstretched talons end the little creature’s life. The bird may eat, or it may circle a few times, then fly to the protected nest in a high tree or rocky cliff. The bird approaches an old barn, or a cliff, or a snow-heavy tree, and decends. Fuzzy chicks cry out in pathetic squeeks for food. The bird watches as the chicks gobble the bloody animal, then settle down to sleep. But the ghostly bird alights once again to hunt and feed. As the bird flies low over the prairies, marshes, forests, and towns of the Arctic Circle, you can see its all-knowing way of living evident in every slow beat of it’s wings. The Snowy Owl is one of the greatest Arctic predators, and is a remarkable bird. Just to watch it in action is an awe-inspiring moment. It becomes one with the snow, light, darkness, and steely cold. You see it look at you, and you feel guilty to be a human being. The Arctic tundra is the Snowy Owl, and the Snowy Owl is the Arctic.
By Carrie
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