Feeder Friends

I was sitting at my desk, staring blindly out the sliding door that looks onto my porch, waiting for the percolator.  My bird feeders are clamped to the railing of my porch, and are in direct line-of-sight when I am seated at my desk all day.  I wasn’t really paying attention, my mind elsewhere, until I saw seeds flying through the air.  When I refocused my eyes, I had an amazing view.  Five of my favorite songbirds were all at my feeders, at the same time.  Chaz (the Spaz) Chickadee.  Nate Nuthatch.  Tommy Titmouse.  Ronnie Wren.  And Carl Cardinal.  What a way to start my day!

I was mesmerized.  I often see all of these handsome creatures throughout the day, usually more than once each day.  But I have never seen them all together.  I suppose the breakfast bell rang at the same time this morning.  The flurry of activity captured me and I sat watching them for the few minutes they were all there together.

Chaz and his identical looking friends were on their hyperactive mission to carry every last sunflower seed back to their nests.  Sometimes there was only one at the station, other times two or three.  It appeared they were racing to see who could get to the feeders and back fastest, or the most times, because they never sat around long, but they were always there.

Nate would hop around a little, watching the others warily, then grab a peanut and disappear around the building only to return about thirty seconds later.  I am guessing he nests in the trees across the road from my place, and I love how he announces himself with a few quick calls before he reappears, usually clinging to the brick of the building’s exterior.

Tommy was one of the constants.  He would fly to the feeder, grab a sunflower seed, and then flick to the top of the feeder where he sat in perfect silhouette as he pried the shell open, ate the morsel inside, and flung the shell to the side.  He would preen for a moment, then hop back down to grab another shell.

Ronnie is the newest addition to the balcony crew, my first sighting of him only happening a month or so ago.  He is still very cautious of his surroundings, and always exploring – the dead plants against the building, the wind-blown seeds on the ground, the screen door to look in at what I am doing.  It’s all very entertaining to watch, and the beautiful colors of brown, black, and white only add to the fun.

Carl is the most colorful of the group, the biggest, and the least skittish.  While always on alert, cocking an eye to the sky as he cracks open seeds, he doesn’t appear as jumpy as the others, but when he does fly away startled, the others follow suit immediately.  Carl is usually the first to reappear, his bright red uniform a beacon of safety to the others.

I am averaging around twenty different species daily at or around my feeders, including a couple fantastically colored woodpeckers, and I am eternally grateful for the pleasure of watching all of my feeder friends.  But these five gave me a deep smile on this sunny morning.

I’m going to miss my feathered friends when I move.  I know I will make new friends, but these little guys have been with me through a lot these past few years and I am eternally grateful for them every single day.  No matter how low life got me, they were always able and willing to put a smile back on my face.

Take care, my friends.  And come visit my new feeders! I’ll leave you with a few other feathery friends.