This summer I had to stop playing my lever harp in the back yard because it was driving our local mockingbird nuts. Instead of the mockingbird picking up on some of my riffs it heard my harp as a rival and went absolutely berserk trying to “outsing” it whenever I took my harp outside. It would quiet down only when I took my harp inside again.
The only roadrunner I’ve had a run in with was in Borrego Springs. It saw its reflection in our sliding glass door and kept attacking it, almost broke the glass. It was a large roadrunner, largest one I’ve ever seen — the size of a small turkey. And it wouldn’t go away, it kept attacking and attacking its image off and on for a couple of days.
My favorite harp/bird moment in the desert was also in Borrego Springs on our patio. I was playing my lever harp in sandals and halfway through a number I felt a little continuous swoosh over my toes. I jumped a little because I thought it was a snake, but it turned out to be a covey of quail and their little feet were padding over my toes. It was soft, like feathers.