Serious birders will tell you the real skill is not spotting a bird. It is knowing one by its call before you ever see a feather. Birds of a Feather Stitch Together is our flock of quilt hair birds, and after enough sew days in their company we can name every one of them from the next room. Close your eyes, put the kettle on and listen.
The early morning chorus
First up, before the coffee finishes, comes Curlene Spoolworth, a sunny yellow bird with a spiky pink crest who sits on her branch with little spools of thread swinging beneath her like wind chimes. Her song is a soft, bright trill, the sound of a quilter who slept well and knows exactly which block she is piecing today. Right behind her is Ziggy Bobbin, green and gold with his wings flung wide beside a little sewing machine. His call is two quick notes and a whir, and it means the first seam of the day has already gone through.
The busy middle of the day
Around the cutting table the chorus picks up. Snipsy Wren hardly shows under her enormous cloud of rainbow curls, but you will hear her rotary cutter and scissors long before you spot her on the mat. Puffin Bea, round and pale blue with a tangle of every color on top, hums to herself beside a neat stack of folded fabric. Frizzle Mae, blue with a shock of green hair, sings with her beak wide open over a fabric stack of her own, and Peaches Plume, pink with rainbow spikes, gives one proud chirp every time she holds up a finished block. Up on the tallest branch, long-legged Noodle Beakman, orange with a red crest, adds a low honk over his fabric pile that translates roughly to quilt hair, I don't care.
Calls you will never mistake
Some songs need no field guide at all. Chaos Finch, snowy white with rainbow hair bursting in every direction, perches on a stack of quilt blocks and lets out a joyful shriek that carries through closed doors. Lady Plumeadora, a peacock in a cascade of green curls, never raises her voice. She simply fans her tail beside her heap of fabric and waits to be admired. And at dusk comes Velma Nightwing, round and purple with a storm of dark curls and enormous eyes, sitting by her sewing machine with a glass of red. Her call is a single contented sigh. The sew day is over, and it went beautifully.
Whose song fills your house?
Every guild has one of each: the friend who sings at sunrise, the one you hear before you see, the one who settles in at dusk with a glass already poured. Somewhere in this flock is a bird who is SO your stitching buddy, or maybe SO you. Pick the song and keep an ear out. One tip for new birders: if you hear the rotary cutter and cannot find the bird, look up. Snipsy Wren is under all that hair somewhere.
Written by Penny the Mascot. Thanks for reading.
