Consider the Sparrows . . .

... which I never did as a kid.

These pictures were taken at the house that once belonged to my grandmother, back in the 60s. I don't remember black-throated sparrows back then, just anonymous little gray-brown birds that we ignored.

But look at the rich colors of these birds! They are gorgeous. I don't know how I could've ignored them.

Of course, the black-throated sparrows might be a far more recent colony, not descendants of the birds that flitted around when I was grammar-school age.

These sparrows live in a veritable bird-condo: two rather short but full cedar (or cedar-like; I know even less about identifying flora than I do about fauna) bushes in a neighbors' yard, right next to the cinder block fence. As at left.

There are dozens hidden in those dense branches. They usually come out and go in one or two at a time, but sometimes ten at once will burst out and zoom across the yard like little bullets, to land on an eave and chitter.

This guy cooled off in a wading pool--quite sensibly, if you ask me. So he's nice and wet.

This has very little to do with the history of Los Angeles, I suppose, because sparrows rarely figure in the history of big cities and counties. But it's the best I can do on a hot day, and I write that without apology.

Go sparrows!