Long Sips of Water – Day 960

Catbird – Photo: L. Weikel

Long Sips of Water

I made a point this morning of making sure the birdbath in our yard was filled with fresh, cold water. While the feeders in our yard were visited only sporadically, the ol’ watering hole attracted more attention than it usually does. I have to admit it made me smile to see so many Goldfinches and Blue Jays luxuriating in taking long sips of water.

One thing I learned today? It’s a sure thing the songbirds are thirsty when they’re at the bird bath and don’t seem to pay a whit of attention to the Red-shouldered Hawk screeching in the field beside the house. (Which also makes me wonder: do hawks stay hydrated by eating plump songbirds? Yikes.)

Beyond taking risks that they rarely dare, it’s clear to me that our feathered friends are feeling the effects of the oppressive heat and humidity. I don’t know about you, but dogs and cats make their discomfort in the heat fairly obvious. Birds generally do not.

So it was a little creepy to see some finches and woodpeckers standing on the feeder posts with their beaks open. I assumed this was the closest thing to panting birds do. But it was unsettling. I kept wondering if maybe I’d just never paid close enough attention to my birds in the summer.

Goldfinches – Photo: L. Weikel

Worrisome News

Just as I was talking out loud to my birds (and grudgingly acknowledging the presence of the gray squirrels, red squirrels, and chippies), I came across this unsettling article. It seems birds are dying in record numbers in states all around us as well as further to the south, and scientists have yet to figure out what’s happening.

Sadly, the speculation is that it may either be a disease or perhaps the use of pesticides to kill off the Brood X Cicadas. The thought of that makes me want to scream in frustration. First of all, I cannot understand why anyone would be trying to kill the cicadas. There’s so much literature readily available on the nature of the cicadas and how they benefit virtually every part of the ecosystem.

Second of all, it’s bad enough that people want to kill these red-eyed whirring wonders simply because they’re noisy, or inconvenient, or ‘scary looking.’ But to do it with poison? When people know (or would know if they stopped for even half a second to think about it or read anything on the subject) that other animals eat cicadas? Do they really forget that there’s something called a food chain in healthy ecosystems? Is it really so hard to think beyond our own very personal, very self-centered

Moving Forward

I’m writing about this today not in an effort to shame those people who either don’t care about cicadas or actively dislike them enough to aggressively try to kill them, but rather to alert us all to the need to keep an eye on our birds.

There are some suggestions at the end of the article on what to do if you find a dead bird. Working together perhaps we can be a part of the solution to the crisis.

It seems we’re screwing things up pretty well via climate change. The least we can do is help our fellow creatures out by providing clean fresh water, especially in this searing heat, and taking care not to poison them. A low bar indeed.

Blue Jays are susceptible – Photo: L. Weikel

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Chickadee Photo-bomb – Day 813

What are you lookin’ at? – Photo: L. Weikel

Chickadee Photo-bomb

My feathered friends were in fine fettle today. Comings, goings, dodging of snowball-sized snowflakes. There was even a chickadee photo-bomb thrown into the mix. Life doesn’t get much better than having access to such color and sassiness, puffery and strategy.

We’ve formed a mutual admiration club that only seems to improve with time. I ensure their supply of sunflower seeds is topped off and never in danger of depletion and they provide a non-stop tutorial in avian culinary predilections and territorial posturing.

It just so happened I received an article about those very habits in my inbox this morning, which made my observations all the more enlightening.

Patience – Photo: L. Weikel

A Mere Sampling

It should be noted that the photos in tonight’s post are from only one of my feeders. The truth is, there’s an entire cadre of winged ones that don’t even deign to visit this particular feeder, probably because it’s so close to the house. As a result, these photos are but a mere sampling of the visitors we entertain.

The truth is, these spoiled creatures have access to seven other feeders on another side of our house. I just happen to feature photos mostly from this feeder because they’re the easiest for me to take. Indeed, sometimes it’s hard for me to get anything accomplished when they’re flitting and kibitzing with each other right outside my window.

And then there’s the occasional Boeing 747 that lands on the feeder, scattering all the little ones from hither to yon. I’m talking the red shouldered woodpeckers and blue jays, mostly. While these beasts were around today and sending everyone away in an occasional frenzy, they seemed a bit camera shy.

Don’t talk with your mouth full – Photo: L. Weikel

The Others

After I topped off the seven ‘other’ feeders, including the peanut coil, I stood very quietly on the porch and just observed. It did not take a full sixty seconds before everybody got the word that the goods had been delivered. A free-for-all was here for the taking.

Many of the birds that grace our land enjoy nibbling their kibble directly from the ground. Cardinals tend to be ground feeders (although they obviously won’t hesitate to imbibe from a feeder if need be), as do juncos. I didn’t realize that until today, when as I stood stock still on the porch to see who would show up if they thought I’d retreated inside, I saw at least fourteen juncos show up and do a little dance under the peanut coil.

I’m pretty sure they were more interested in the sunflower seeds I’d scattered there than the peanuts, but you never know. I’m always surprised by the little guys that try to wedge a peanut twice as big as their head out of the coil. I have to wonder: is that a ‘meal for the day?’

Crowd at the bar – Photo: L. Weikel

Sacrifice

I made the conscious choice to keep my phone (and hence my camera) in my pocket as I stood in observation mode on the porch. It was a sacrifice, but I didn’t want any movement of mine to scatter them. I wanted to see if I could get them to feel safe enough to eat freely in my presence. At one point, my quick count of all those prancing on top of the snow, clinging to the feeders themselves, and kibitzing from the overhanging branches of the maples came to at least 68.

I have to admit, it was a precious few minutes early this afternoon when I was graced with their trust. I’d decided to refill the feeders at that moment because the snowball-sized snowflakes that had pelted the area in a barrage of white fluff (it got deep fast) had subsided. The Weather Channel app on my phone was remarkably accurate this storm – and true to their prediction, I had a window in which to refill the feeders.

As I stood there watching and listening to the house and goldfinches, chickadees, juncos, cardinals, sparrows, woodpeckers, blue jays, wrens, and nuthatches call to each other, the snowstorm resumed. The flakes were no longer big enough to build a fort with singlehandedly, but they were falling so thickly and furiously, my eyelashes were coated and I could swear the birds were ducking.

This was a wonderfully beautiful, long-lasting snowstorm that I was delighted to enjoy with the birds that share our land and home with us.

Cletus and Spartacus, on the other hand, the ones who usually are first out the door? That was not on their agenda today.

It’s a snow day, Mommy – Photo: L. Weikel

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Feeding the Birds – Day 496

Feeding the Birds – Photo: L. Weikel

Feeding the Birds

Some of you may remember my semi-flip out back in September when suddenly all the birds not only went silent but actually left the premises. It was a long 20 days or so before they finally started returning, much to my huge relief. It’s possible, I suppose, that they all just suddenly discovered plentiful seeds and other treats somewhere else. But the abruptness and totality of their departure – and the similar abruptness of their return – just seemed kind of weird.

I do intend to pay attention this fall, to see if they make it into an annual habit.

Looking For Normal

This past week felt like I was trapped in a time warp. Every day I had to make a concerted effort to steady and ground myself – almost as if I’d awakened in the midst of an ocean and had to regain my sea legs before I could walk into the next room. But it wasn’t a physical wavering. It was a psychological one – or perhaps even deeper; perhaps an existential one.

So many assumptions and fundamental beliefs I’ve held about our country and our ability to respond to any challenge – no matter how grave, how daunting, or how threatening – have been shattered this week. And the worst part about that? The worst part is knowing that it was completely avoidable. The worst part is knowing that our lack of preparation and ability to respond (responsibility) was facilitated by the deliberate obfuscation of those at the highest levels of our government.

And people are starting to get sick and die in numbers that grow exponentially, daily, as a result.

So? Having no real power to effect meaningful change until Election Day, I need to look for normal amidst the chaos. Looking for normal yesterday afternoon meant feeding my birds.

Everyday Joy

The temperature outside climbed to 78 degrees yesterday. Needing to ground myself and reconnect to what’s real and sustainable, I found myself sitting on my porch in the sunshine, reveling in birdsong. For a precious few minutes, I was able to wrap myself in a cocoon of delight as I listened to the robins and the fish crows trill and grok, respectively. I watched both two red shouldered woodpeckers and a downy cling to my front feeder and push around a chickadee, then heard but could not see-to-save-my-life the producer of the unmistakable, heavy-billed <<thwacking>> of a pileated just beyond the garage.

I watched goldfinches, house finches, sparrows and wrens flit and flutter amongst the shelter of the carcass of our Christmas tree, which we prop against one of the maples in our yard each year to give them additional cover from the sharp-shinned and red-tailed hawks that patrol the area. Nuthatches marched upside down on the maples and I even glimpsed either a blue bird or an indigo bunting before it disappeared into the thicket along our driveway.

My effort to reclaim normal consisted of the measured, meditative act of filling our birdfeeders and feeding the birds.

Pandemic Partners

I hope I’ll be able to keep my feeders filled over the coming months. The joy and sense of connection with All Life that birds give me is abundantly healing and centering. I recently came across this great article with excellent tips on how to make our yards welcoming, safe, and enticing to these wonderful creatures. It affirmed why Karl and I are so lucky to have so many feathered friends sharing this land we call home.

So many of the suggestions in this article are sound common sense, but they’re also little ways of changing our relationship with birds and Mother Earth that help bring us into balance with Her.

And ultimately, as we make our way through the devastation of this pandemic, coming back into balance with Mother Earth will be key. Celebrating and appreciating our birds can remind us of that.

Goldfinch – Photo: L. Weikel

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Goldfinches Return – Day 347

Goldfinches in shadow – Photo: L. Weikel

Goldfinches Return

What a reprieve today brought from the overwhelm I was feeling last night.

The exquisite late October weather made my heart sing. Deep robin’s egg blue sky provided the perfect backdrop to the brilliant golds, oranges, and crimsons of the maple trees in our yard.

Because I was lucky enough to work from home today, I sat outside on our porch and drank in nature’s swan song while I pecked away at my laptop.

Babies and Birdsong

Well, maybe not babies per se, but certainly fledglings suddenly appeared in the maple closest to our feeders. Their voices filled the air, which has been most unsettlingly quiet for far too long.

What was this? How odd. Why did what appeared to be an entire goldfinch family suddenly show up just this morning? Where had they been up until now? Not sitting on a nest for weeks at a time, surely? And yet here they were, acting as if they’d been here the whole time.

It doesn’t make sense. Are these birds gaslighting me? Ha ha; no, I’m sure not.

But it does bring joy to my heart to witness these babies (ok, fledges) fluttering their wings, seeming to tremble on the branch, while demanding that the mommy or daddy bird fill its beak with tasty morsels. These goldfinches most definitely were a family.

Where Are the House Finches?

But that does lead me to wonder what happened to the two dozen or more house finches that preyed on our feeders during the summer. I didn’t see a single house finch today (and haven’t since late September), and that, too, is unsettling.

Other Residents Returning

Another delight today, though, was that the blue jays returned in a seemingly strong show of force and presence. Four of them! And they resumed their nearly clocklike precision in back and forth flights carrying peanuts to their nests. Which again – begs the question: where have they been for the past month? Vacation?

Finally, two red shouldered woodpeckers graced the feeders today, a male and a female. Or a male and a juvenile, I’m not quite sure.

Silhouette of red shouldered woodpecker – Photo: L. Weikel

I did the best I could trying to snatch their photos, but the blue jays were both egregiously bold and frustratingly savvy. It didn’t matter how stealthily I moved my hand to my phone, or my phone off my lap. Those blue jays, often with a peanut hanging out the side of their beak like an old fashioned stogey, picked up on my effort immediately and took off. They were back within moments, having delivered their bounty (and they do always make it seem as though they’re stealing the peanuts, even though I provide them willingly) and determined to retrieve even more.

Blue jay butt – Photo: L. Weikel

As a result of their belligerent refusal to be caught red-beaked in the act, though, I only managed to get a shot of one of them from behind. A most unsatisfactory photo, I’ll admit, for they are actually stunningly lovely creatures. I adore their coloring and their sassy attitudes.

Maybe I’ll catch them on camera tomorrow.

Message of Goldfinch

Finally, I looked up Goldfinch in my Animal Speak* book (by Ted Andrews), and I find the anomaly from what is said there to be the interesting consideration today.

Goldfinch’s “Keynote” is: Awakening to the Nature Spirits and its Cycle of Power is the summer solstice and the summer season.

Clearly, it is not Goldfinch’s power time right now. Yet here they are; the ones indicating a potential return to normalcy.

Fairies, Elves, and Devas

“Black and yellow are the colors of the archangel Auriel. These colors in meditation and ritual are used to invoke that aspect of this being that oversees the activity of nature spirits – the faeries, elves, and devas. The high point of activity of nature is during the summer, its highest point being at the solstice itself.

The presence of goldfinches usually indicates an awakening to the activities of those beings that are normally relegated to the realm of fiction. Goldfinch can help you to deepen your perceptions so that you can begin to see and experience the activities of the nature spirits yourself This deepening of perceptions is reflected in the black cap – awakening to that which is normally hidden from view.

Goldfinches are usually permanent residents, and in those areas where they are found, you can also find the faeries and the elves. Goldfinches like border areas and young brush growth found at edges and borders. Edges and borders are intersections where there are natural doorways to that other realm of life.

Even their nesting habits reflects this link to the border areas, the ‘Tween Places. They build their nests in a fork on an outer branch high in a tree. It is usually made of thistledown. Thistle has a long association with nature spirits and the healing aspects of animals. Blessed thistle was once used to invoke the god Pan. Thistle has been a symbol of endurance. It is through endurance and persistence that we can open to the Realm of Faerie once more. Goldfinches are birds that can help us connect with those nature spirits that can show us how to heal animals – wild and domestic.

Goldfinches are rarely silent. This in itself is a reminder that Nature is speaking to us constantly and that we should learn to listen and communicate with it from all levels. It reflects that the nature spirits are around us at all times.” (emphasis added)

All of this makes me wonder: have all the birds been at a conference of Nature Spirits? Have they been communing with each other to perhaps figure out how to recalibrate their balance? To somehow counter the imbalance that we humans are bringing to nature, particularly recently? Maybe they are trying to figure out how to help us cultivate our endurance and persistence for the times we’re facing – the ones causing the feeling of overwhelm I mentioned yesterday.

It makes me wonder if there is any connection between the birds going on hiatus and the nature balancing I’ve been engaging in with the Essence of Perelandra on the 1stof each month.

Hmmm…

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The Birds Are Returning – Day 345

 

The Birds Are Returning

Today was the first day in well over a month that I’ve had reason to feel a glimmer of hope again.

As many of you know, I’ve been rather freaked out by the complete absence of birds – not only at our feeders and in our trees here at our home, but everywhere around here locally. Karl and I have been commenting on the eerie silence of the forests and fields as we’ve walked and walked and walked.

And no, I can’t really blame it on the guy in the photo, above, either. First of all, I took this particular photo outside of my office – so it’s not as if he flew home with me to snack on our songbirds. But I’m keenly aware that its kin live here and, in fact, use our yard and the open space between our feeders and our small barn as a runway dedicated to harvesting tender morsels of delight.

Wet Weather

Sheila, our 15 year old Boston Terrier, needs extra encouragement to lope off the porch to relieve herself when it’s raining out. If we don’t go out with her, it is amazing how this pup – who used to be extremely fastidious about being a ‘good girl’ – will now just obviously say, “Screw it,” and unceremoniously just start to pee on the porch. Even if it’s just misting!

But because of that, (and because of her recent ‘go rogue’ moments when she’s chosen to go on ‘walkabout‘), I tend to go out with her every time she goes to the door now. All of which to explain how I found myself standing on the porch this morning, paying attention to what was going on right in front of me.

First, I heard some crows. They were, in fact, just regular crows – not the ‘fish crows’ which were may favorites throughout the spring and summer. But there were a good three or four of them, which made me happy.

Then blue jays. Two. Standing near the peanut circle and daring me to shoo them away (which I would never do). Finally, a couple goldfinches, three chickadees – and I could hear at least one wren, maybe more, in the brush at the edges of the property line.

Paying Attention

Perhaps I simply became hyper aware of the birds taking a vacation this year. I still find it extremely odd that all of them decided to up and leave completely, all at once, with nary a goodbye note. I’ll be curious to see if a similar departure from their frequenting of the feeders takes place next year.

Since it was misting and rather miserable out, I found it impossible to get a good shot of any of the birds that ‘came back’ today. My apologies.

The energy or ‘feel’ of today was weird. But I wanted to celebrate the return of the birds because it feels significant.

I used the photo of the hawk that was looking at me with that stink-eye of an expression because I feel like that’s how Spirit is looking at me right now.

“Get moving. Stop your nonsense,” is what I’m hearing on the wind. And that’s what I feel this hawk is saying, too.

I must get myself to bed. I have lots to accomplish tomorrow. Maybe even snagging some photos of a couple returned birds!

(T-766)