They're there every morning—chickadees, titmice, cardinals, doves—hunched on scattered perches near the door close to the suspended seed feeders, feathers fluffed against the cold, waiting for me to come and toss out a few breakfast scoops of cracked corn.
Is this an act of faith or resignation? A stoic example of casting one's fate to chance, or some rudimentary belief that providence in the form of that scruffy fellow who fed them yesterday will do the same today?
I don't know. I only know they're always there, waiting…
19 comments:
HI GRIZZ - I recall fondly our humming birds on "The Trail" 'waiting' patiently come May 1st if we didn't have the feeder out w/that sweet nectar right on the 1st. They, like us, are truly creatures or habit :-) Love your pictures of your feather friends against the Winter sky. Glorious.
And Grizz - no apology necessary for my tearful response to your wise, YES, wise and beautiful, true words - my grief over missing the Trail can be tapped by a song, a picture, words,y own memories, images, it is there, right at the surface and I am relieved when I can let some of the tears over flow. k?
Love to you my friend
Gail
peace....
Gail…
Yes, we all like our habits and routines—at least I do. Thank you for your words, for putting my mind at ease re. that previous comment. I would never intentionally say something to cause you discomfort. I fully know how some things can be carried so very close to the surface—though I should have kept that better in focus when replying. Thank you for understanding and forgiving.
A timely reminder for the days when I feel less able to fill the feeders. Wonderful photos,
To wait is one thing; to wait with trust and faith is quite another. Perhaps your friends are there each morning not only to find food, but to also provide food for thought to their less feathered bretheren.
Freda…
I'm too much the master of self-appointed guilt to let myself dawdle. But I keep the cans of seeds and cracked corn sitting by the front door, so it doesn't take much effort for me to step out, lift a lid, and fling a scoop or two.
(Between you and me, I'd probably keep those 50-gallon cans inside the entryway rather than out, which would allow me to feed my waiting birds by merely cracking the door and flinging…in whatever state of undress, caffeine deprivation, lethargy, morning blahs, or hacking pneumonia I happened to be laboring under. Alas, Myladylove has rather loudly and, I thought, prejudicially quashed that seemingly brilliant workaround.)
George…
I very much like that "food for thought" notion. Nature regularly serves up the most profound lessons in ways so simple we miss them. As Shakespeare said, "…far away from the civilized world, we can hear the language of the trees, read the books of the running streams, hear sermons in the stones, and discover the good in every single thing."
Do they ever come beak tapping at the door when you are tardy? Also what if those 50gallon cans slipped into a decorative barrel that matched the entranceway?
then again you could design a birdseed catapult mechanism from a window and not even have to fling with your own power.
AfromTOx2…
As a matter of fact, they do—especially the Carolina wrens and various sparrows. Not beak-tapping at the door, but beak-tapping at the adjacent large window—which is just above a table where I sit my scoops and tools and the disassembled feeders during their seed filling. Some seeds get spilled, both on the table and on the wide stone window-ledge above—thus turning both into de facto feeding stations. And when their relatively few seeds run out, more than a few of the little fathered freeloaders come a'tapping at the glass, giving me the evil birdy eye to hurry up and resupply the eats!
Covering the corn and seed cans—or even build them nice wooden bins that could do double duty as a sort of entryway credenza—was my first counter-suggestion…which itself got counter by the statement that it wasn't the ugly factor of the cans, but the fact they might attract vermin and bugs if brought inside. While I wasn't much worried about mice, I had to concede that insects were likely. I've been around too many grain elevators and farm feed stores, owned a horse, kept chickens, and in similar means had various stores of grain. Given heat and dry conditions, mealworms, ants, beetles, and any number of flying moths were invariably looking to take up home. Just like they will in the cornmeal, flour, and cereals you store in the cupboard. Alas, she had a point, and even a tight-fitting lid would prevent their appearance. So–close, but no cigar.
As to that window catapult—I have no doubt in my eventual capacity to get to playing around "shooting at starlings" or the like, and subsequently mess up, then having to replace a window and maybe the window frame, too—at great and painful expense. Not to mention hear about it forever after. Nope, I'll say the same thing I told a friend who offered to share a few of the grenades he'd smuggled home while a'soldiering in some faraway land…no thank you, I'm all too aware of my potential.
I always joke that at times it feels as if they have their feathers on their hips looking towards the window and saying, "Hey! You! We're hungry!"
Jayne…
That would especially be the wrens and chickadees! They can really give you the impatient look.
I understand the feeling. We have 5 bird feeders and one for squirrels. This morning there was a bird on each perch of each feeder and some were waiting for their turn, just like in a parking lot. Doves were on the ground as well as cardinals. Under just one bird feeder, one the ground, I counted 15 birds. There were so many. Luckily we had gone to Costco and bought a 40 pound bag. It is not that cold here today (in the 50s) but they still rely on us. Sometimes I feel like we are the “all-you-can-eat” bird restaurant in the area!
Vagabonde…
Hey, I buy those 40 pound bags of sunflower seeds, too, plus 50 pounders of cracked corn and suet bt the 20-cakes case. So I know EXACTLY that feeling of being the area's “all-you-can-eat” bird restaurant! I have big 2 seed feeders, and 2 suet cages—and I scatter the cracked corn on the ground, stones, and stumps. I know there are times that on the ground alone I'm serving more than 100 birds…plus maybe half that many actually on the seed feeders or waiting their turn. When the weather turns bad, those numbers—and especially the feeder ones—double. Yup, been there, done that, and still doing.
Scribe--Given that your last post was a week ago, I am joining the birds.
I am sitting at your proverbial window, tapping.
OK, fellow, get to work--we need a new blog to "feed" us.
hi how's it hanging-
Just wondering if all is well....
KGMom…
I heard your tap-tap-tapping and just posted my excuse/reason. Please forgive my taciturnity.
AfromTO…
Well, now that I'm back online…better. Like most Irishmen, I'm always happy to be blathering.
Robin…
Yes, no problems except me, a dropped WWW connection, and a possible flare-up of winter Weltschmerz. Are you okay?
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