Bath Day

Day 139: Four and a half inches of rain in 24 hours filled the potholes in my driveway, and when a brief sunbreak struck the surface, every junco in the county turned out for a spring bath. There were a few arguments about tub space, but for the most part, the puddles resembled the communal baths of old Rome, the bathers packed shoulder to shoulder in the deeps and soaking cordially while others stood on the sidelines waiting their turns or primping and preening in completion of their ablutions. It always delights me to see these little creatures so fastidious in their personal habits. Scientifically, I understand that clean feathers have more loft, provide better insulation against extremes of both cold and heat, but it seems to me that there is more behind it than that. They are washing away the dross of winter, sprucing themselves up for potential mates, and if anything could be clearer, it is that they are thoroughly enjoying themselves as evidenced by how long some of them stay in the tub. "Hey, have you gone to sleep in there? It's my turn!"