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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Catbird Come Calling – Day 228

Photo: Brian E. Small/VIREO

Catbird Come Calling        

I have been puzzling over something for about a week.  I’ve been bringing in the birdfeeders at night, hoping to thwart whatever critter or critters have been raiding them in the dead of night. I have a strong suspicion it’s been a cabal of deer who’ve adapted wily tongues that can suck seeds out of feeders like they’re Pez dispensers and an unholy alliance between raccoons and opossums raiding the peanuts I’ve put out for the blue jays, crows, and woodpeckers (among others).

When I’ve gone outside to retrieve the feeders, it’s usually been after I’ve ‘done and dusted’ my post for the evening – so it’s around 1:00 a.m.

Post-Midnight Serenade

For the past several nights – at least three – I’ve been amazed to hear a bird singing quite distinctly in the darkness. I’ve been intrigued! I’ve even attempted to record it with my phone, with only a slight degree of success. Enough for me to at least be able to hear it and – yes – when replaying it for Karl today, I realized I recognized its voice.

But I must admit, until today, I never knew catbirds sing at night. Until, that is, I confirmed it via Mr. Google.

This is the first year we’ve had a number of catbirds hanging around our feeders. And the reason they are is because they are attracted to the fancy feeder my sister-in-law gave us from Wild Birds Unlimited. It’s also the feeder that I think the raccoons and opossums are particularly infatuated with! (Although they do seem to like the peanut coil, too…)

Fancy feeder – As birds whittle away at it, it becomes a work of art! Photo: L. Weikel

I love learning something new about the birds that share our land with us! And I hope that guy woos his girlfriend; he has a lovely voice.

Peanut feeder after a raccoon has climbed on it – Photo: L. Weikel

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Why We Can’t Have Nice Things – Day 208

Photo: L. Weikel

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things                         

You’ve heard this before.

When rogue elements anywhere ruin it for everybody, that’s the refrain. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

And that’s precisely how I’m feeling about the wildlife on our property.

Somebody – some “body” – ruined it for everyone.

We recently received a cool new feeder from Karl’s sister, Francine. The way in which it assembles and disassembles allows a solid cylinder of bird food to be mounted on a central post. The seeds are held together with some kind of a sticky substance and it takes the birds a while – usually a good month – to gnaw (or more accurately peck) away at it.

Photo: L. Weikel

Although perhaps ‘gnaw’ is not as inaccurate as I’d like.

And from the looks of things, it appears birds are not the only ones frequenting the feeders – especially the new ones. Not only is the aforementioned cylinder feeder new, so is the accordion-like coil dispenser for peanuts, which the blue jays, woodpeckers, and fish crows have been working on mastering all week.

But now – I don’t know.

See for yourself the appalling manners exercised by some “body.” (And apparently a heavy body, at that, looking at the arc of that wrought iron pole.)

That’s why we can’t have nice things. Somebody has to get greedy and ruin it for everyone.

All things considered? My bets are on Raccoons. (Although I know for sure that deer have been standing around the other feeders – not shown – and literally sucking the seeds out of them as if they’re Pez dispensers.)

Now I just have to decide whether to give them another chance.

Photo: L. Weikel

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