The European Starlings descended on our feeders one afternoon this week.
Hmmmm, this suet seems to be a bit stale.
I only see these birds in the winter, though I read they are year round residents.
But not so stale that I’ve got it to myself.
All I know for sure is that they are pigs and will empty a feeder and eat a whole block of suet in a day. Many people don’t like them because they are invasive.
I guess we can get along and share it.
But, when the sun shines on them just right they are beautiful.
I think the prettiest bird should have first dibs on the food.
On this day the skies were dull and there was little light. But I’ve seen them in sunlight on other winter days and been mesmerized.
I think you’ve got a big head, that’s what I think.
This week I first noticed them fighting each other over the suet feeder. But soon enough they were on the peanut feeder too, a favorite with our Red Bellied woodpeckers.
Hey! Back off, the peanuts are MINE!
The woodpecker stood his ground, telling the starlings off and eventually winning the right to eat in peace.
Geeze…what’s the world coming to I ask you?
In fact, after that little run-in all the starlings moved to the ground in the backyard and then on to greener pastures.
No need to mess with that woodpecker, plenty of seed down here for us.
I was out there to meet the Queen. I’d been trying to get an audience with her for several weeks. But she’s a Royal and follows her own rules. I’m used to that.
Anybody out there? Hey Mr. Downy, are you hungry?
You see, almost every day I’d see, on Facebook, a photographer who calls herself the “Hand of Snacks” feeding a female cardinal along the boardwalk at my favorite park.
Well, at least one bird wants a snack!
Lots of birds come down to any number of hands filled with snacks at this park, but cardinals are famously shy. Quite stand-offish. So to see this female sitting in a hand regularly intrigued me. And I drove the 30+ minutes every week or so, hoping to get to meet her Majesty for myself. Oh, I’d see her – sitting in the scrub along the boardwalk. I’d offer a treat. She’d watch me. But she never showed any interest in getting to know me better. Week after week I’d leave disappointed.
They almost always go for the peanuts first.
This Wednesday, there she was, sitting among the twigs of a dogwood bush with her partner, the bright red Mr. Cardinal. And that morning she seemed interested in me. She moved out to the end of the branch and eyed me up and down. I stood still, gifts offered. She flew to the railing, quite a far bit away from me and eyed me some more.
She’s not too sure about this.
Clearly I was not her Hand of Snacks. I was an imposter. But she was hungry. But I was an imposter. Could she trust me? Would she trust me? She hopped along the railing to get a closer look. She looked up at me and then down at the snacks in my hand. I stood still, barely breathing.
Come on sweetie, it will be OK.
And then she reached out, her feet still firmly planted on the railing, she wasn’t going to actually stand on my hand, and grabbed an oiler seed, moving rapidly away from me to eat it. I stood still.
You have options, pick your favorite!
She hopped over again and helped herself to another treat, not moving so far away this time…and then she grabbed a peanut and with a slight nod to me, she flew back into the bushes to share it with her partner.
You’re such a good Queen, taking your partner the best peanut.
And the politely waiting chickadee hopped up onto my hand to see what she had left behind.
She’s off to share. Mr. Chickadee is waiting in line.
Now I can say I’ve met the Queen. And it was everything I knew it would be.
I’m sitting here watching my birds at our feeders. We have a lot of feeders, starting out with one we thought they could all share…then realizing that some birds aren’t sharers at heart.
Waiting his turn.
Now I fill 4 feeders every morning, and hope I can go the rest of the day without heading out to fill them again. But with the weather this week, all the wind and cold and snow, the birds were ravenous and I ended up out there more than once on each cold, nasty day.
Make room for one more!
Anyway, the year is winding down and I feel like I should be reflecting on 2022. But, in our family, it was a difficult year and one that might best be let go without any formality.
Grab a seed and go, little buddy, before that big woodpecker comes back!
Best, maybe, to anticipate next year. I am very hopeful about 2023.
It’s hard to wait your turn when you’ve got snow melting on your beak.
I’m hoping there are camping adventures waiting in the woods, perhaps even near a dark sky park.
A fluffy downy woodpecker checks out the inventory.
I am hopeful for clear warm summer nights when the moon is new, and wild stormy cloud filled skies during afternoon barn searches.
A hairy woodpecker wants to know who ate all the peanuts.
I’m hopeful for lush gardens of vibrant flowers filled with fat buzzing bees and the whisper of hummingbird wings.
A nuthatch keeps watch while grabbing a snack.
I’m hopeful for red ripe tomatoes warmed by the afternoon sun, and bluebirds nesting in their boxes way out in the yard.
Mr. Cardinal enjoys a peaceful lunch.
I’m hopeful for a long bike ride or two, and more than a couple kayak trips down a river or across a lake.
Mrs. Redbelly asks who failed to clean the snow off the suet?
I’m hopeful I’ll see Alabama again after too long away, that I’ll get to float again in the warm southern waters talking with neighbors and family until the sun slides down in a glorious sunset.
The bluejay is not known for waiting patiently.
And I’m hopeful I’ll get to see my Lake Michigan in all it’s moods a few times too, maybe even Lake Superior if I’m extra lucky.
The mourning dove is almost always the last bird in to eat.
I hope I’ll be able to roam further from home too, perhaps even to dark skies in other states. I’ve heard Michigan does not hold a monopoly on the stars.
Mr. Redbelly decides what his next snack should be.
And I’m hoping I’ll get to share it all with you. And maybe, just maybe if we’re exceptionally lucky, I’ll be able to share it with a new puppy.
A bit of peaceful coexistence.
But that’s a story that has to wait to be told.
Eating as fast as he can.
Meanwhile I’ll sit in my chair near the window and watch my birds as they devour their lunch and dream about another, happier, year.
Mrs. Cardinal eats her fill.
May you all have dreams for 2023, and may the best of those come true.
Change Is Hard 