Birds bring joy. I like nothing more than sitting on the patio – with coffee in the morning, a cold drink in the evening – while watching the feathered throng at feeders some 10 yards away. And always, my well-worn bird guide at hand.
The nuthatch grabs a single seed and flies to a branch to eat. Then repeat.
The tufted titmouse, a chipper little cutie, stops by frequently.
The cardinal hogs a perch while gorging, refusing to be dislodged.
Woodpeckers – downy, hairy and red-bellied – visit, always singly and often late in the day.
The gray catbird appears irregularly and so seldom that its arrival thrills.
Finches in their multiple varieties pluck at the feeders.
The eastern towhees and white-throated sparrows avoid the feeders but stir up a racket scratching at the leaf litter underneath. Occasionally, two brown thrashers join them.
I miss the eastern bluebirds of the Mid-Atlantic region. But the Gulf Coast has introduced me to cedar waxwings and the scissor-tailed flycatcher – a fair trade, I reckon.
And now, the highlight of any year: Chickadees are nesting. In our garage.
Yesterday I loaded up on bags of seeds from Ocean State. At the checkout counter, the woman remarked about how happy the birds would be. “Squirrels,” I said. “They’re the ones that eat mostly. They’re very happy.” I get some birds, but, oh, the squirrels, they empty those tall cylinders quickly.
Squirrels gotta eat too!