Lunch is Ready

Having been away for the better part of the week, during which time there

had also been a significant snowfall, I came home to empty feeders

in need of replenishing.

First step: clearing a bit of snow off the porch...

One of the pleasures of feeding is that the local birds that overwinter get to know you. As soon as I step outside, they magically appear and start chattering away to bring in the rest of the neighbourhood who might have missed the fact that the two legged creature with big, bulky, funny coloured feathers was outside holding goodies in her five pronged claws.

No sooner up, then they're at'em. Shelled nuts for nuthatches, chickadees, woodpeckers, jays...they pretty much all love them.

Kids and peanut butter.

They're reasonably well behaved, and take turns.

'course if you have a wee beak, like a Redpoll, you don't have to wait for any nuts, you can go directly to the finer seed, like nyger.



And there's no waiting particularly, because it sprinkles all over the place.  

The nuthatches eat lots of peanuts..which considering the nut is almost as big as its little head is quite a good trick.

They wait in on line for their turns. 

and keeping an eye on all of the proceedings is PW, waiting on the far side of the tree, not realizing that the bright red cone is a beacon. I see ya!

Black sunflower, nyger, shelled (and often unshelled as well) nuts, finch mix, suet, and water- that'll do it and you too can have a flock of featherbrained friends- who frankly, are often more entertaining than  homo sapiens.

Kodak Moments

A new camera is pretty much an open invitation to take pictures of any and everything in sight, play with all of the crazy settings and generally, lose your focus! This is, after all, a blog that is supposed to mention birds from time to time. But, peaches , log homes, sunflowers, Lola and Vera, and eggplants have pretty much taken over of late!

Time to remedy that!

I am so lucky to live in an amazing place, on the water, and with a back yard filled with mixed hard and soft woods. So on any given day, there's lots to divert my attention span, and render it to a series of Kodak moments.

Kodak One -

Black-capped Chickadee dee dee dee. I think these are the cutest little creatures in the world, and love it when they land on my hand to take the proffered sunflower seed. Like being touched by a fairy!

Kodak Two - Goose bums. I would love to get a picture of these guys under water. Are they standing on their bills?Are they tilted totally forward on their little webbed feet?

Is it a contest?

Kodak Three -Knock knock !

Who's there?

Gonna.

Gonna who?

Gonna Getcha!

What, you expected better from a bird brain?

Kodak Four - Private Screening. The awesome thing about this not so awesome photo is that I'm actually standing inside the screened in porch, and the tiny RTHB is sitting outside.

And the amazing camera has shot right

through the screen mesh!

Wow.

Kodak Five - Milkweed Seed Pod...no birds yet,

but once it opens, the American goldfinches love to use the fluff to feather their nests.

And all's right with the world.

Lots to Crow About

Lots of people don't like crows. Matter of fact, lots of people hate crows. They're loud, bumptious (love that word!), cantankerous, ornery, ill-mannered flockers! Not unlike a bunch of teenagers hanging out at the mall. (Not yours or mine, of course). But... I happen to think they're pretty cool. I know, I know - the CAWCawCawCAW-ing at 5 am on a Saturday morning doesn't win them many friends and it likely influences a lot of others that the crows should be watching out for over at the local dump.
But I once had the honour of trying to nurse a wounded crow back to health - after he'd been winged by an errant bit of buckshot at the dump - and my opinion of, and respect for, crows changed almost instantly! For starters, up close and personal, they're stunning! Irridescent green, bronze, black, and midnight blue blend to create a cloak of darkness, but when captured in sunlight, they positively glimmer. Another thing? Very,very smart! We kept Boris our wounded winger in a reasonably large cage, suitable for a mid-sized dog. He had that latch to freedom figured out within an hour! Little peck here, a pull there, and bingo! I'm outta here! Since the experience with that handsome fellow, I've watched crows a lot more closely. We have three at present who like to lurk around the feeders in our yard. Little feeders meant to hold peanuts for little nuthatches, and suetcakes for downy wee woodpeckers. But do the tricky trio think they're too big for the feeders? Absolutely not, sunflower seed! A few days ago, I watched in wonder as one stood on a fence post, close to the metal tube peanut holder. He hitched his leg up and caught the feeder with his claw, drew it over to his beak, and then proceeded to chow down 'til that tube was totalled and the nuts were gone. Now that 's something to crow about!

My Mom the Nuthatch

My Mom died of pancreatic cancer when I was eight months pregnant so when my beautiful blue eyed daughter arrived I briefly entertained the notion that perhaps she was my Mom – reincarnated. But, really, that was just way too much to process, and I quickly let it go thus allowing my daughter to develop all by her wondrous self.
The first summer of missing Mom, I spent some time with her sister –my aunt, at the family cottage along the historic Rideau Canal system. It was (and remains to this day) a lovely island retreat with the summer sun softly filtered by a verdant canopy of leafy green. It’s a birder’s paradise, and many’s the night I have gone to sleep counting the number of times the Whip-poor-will cried out for love (many, many, many times!!!). In telling Aunt Marg about the record breaking 132 calls I’d heard the previous evening, it became the conversation starter that allowed her to talk to me about my Mom, and how much she missed her. She told me that every time she saw a small warbler flitting along the edges of her flower beds she just knew that it was Mom and felt comforted. This notion both pleased and surprised me because I’d never thought of my Mom as bird before. And I had always thought my aunt was more, well, scientific or something.
Years passed, and I more or less forgot about the ‘my mom is a bird’ conversation until a trip back to the prairies two years ago. The weather was warm and balmy, and Mom’s dearest friend Mardy asked me to take her out to the cemetery for a little visit. I agreed and we spent a quiet, peaceful hour with many old friends and relatives. The windows were down in the car as we drove out of the cemetery, and just as Mardy turned to ask me if I knew that Mom liked birds, a little red breasted nuthatch lit on a branch that was practically inside the car and proceeded to “whank, whank”. And just as quickly, Mardy said, “Oh, there she is! “ and we both burst out laughing. We left feeling happy, and knowing we had, indeed, had a visit with Mom.
A birdsong brings comfort. And my daughter sings like a lark. Mysterious ways indeed.