20 January 2012


Sitting by the campfire this morning, quiet & peaceful, the aroma of cold ashes in the air.

The sparrows fly in and clean up the dropped marshmallows; those objects of disappointment and tears from last night. The birds peck and pull at the gooey globs. One scrawny frantic bird gets a white glob on top of his beak. It seems to frustrate him, but soon he's back in the fray.

Young boys arrive and run up and down and back and forth on the wooden skateboard ramp: a seemingly senseless expense of energy like hamsters in a wheel. Another boy runs from his family's cluster of tents toward the toilet with his hand over his mouth. I think it all has something to do with the marshmallows.

Gulls arrive but don't seem to care about the white goo. They search the lawn for bits of sausage and larger morsels.

A sparrow notices a pink marshmallow and jumps over to that rock. After a couple of tastes, he flies off. Other birds sample the pink goo, but they don't stay longer than two pecks.

Is it the artificial colouring that puts them off?

Behaviour observed is not behaviour explained, though it's fun to try.

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1 comment:

jane said...

In my experience, marshmallows are best served with steaming hot chocolate underneath them.