For over a decade, my backyard has been a mecca for songbirds, squirrels, and on occasion, tomato robbing whitetails. During fall and winter, I really turn the switch on by offering such an array of goodies and morsels to them that I can’t even keep up with what is on their “plate.” Whether it’s safflowers seeds, thistle, mealworms, sunflowers, cranberries, corn, and more, many times my lawn looks as if a grain truck has flipped upside down and left its payload for the grabbing. Color abounds with vibrant male cardinals, stunningly beautiful bluebirds, and pink grosbeaks. Many other species cover the ground as well, including chickadees, small finches, blue jays, and more.
If you have been following my writing, you are fully aware of my fond affection for my feathered and furry friends, excluding those marauding whitetails during tomato season. Of course, all good things must come to an end as it did when I recently moved to my new residence.
Change, as I have mentioned before, is inevitable. How we adjust, embrace, and accept change, has a profound affect on our attitudes, both in the present and in the future. Looking out my new back window, it is currently almost barren of color, from birds that is. The multitude of shrubs, annuals, and perennials DO offer color, just not in the form I am used to. I feel saddened, or perhaps disappointed is a better word, many mornings, by the lack of activity from the flitting and flickering of winged species that create a comical ruckus.
I have been standing alone, holding my cup of coffee, as I watch dawn crack anticipating a rush of wings from the limbs above as the competition begins for seeds galore, but alas, it’s quiet. But things are changing.
As with my previous home, we have a wooden fence that creates a border for the back property. Lo and behold, the top of the fence has a flat plank as mine did in the other neighborhood. This is a must for having a place to scatter seeds without them becoming lost in the turf, to begin with, that is. Once the little rascals find the smorgasbord, then it’s no holds barred. They’ll find the good stuff no matter where it falls or is scattered. It sounds like I know what I’m talking about, doesn’t it? I’ll let you in on a little secret.
Build it, and they will come! Does this phrase ring a bell? Well, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the last month or so. I’m starting all over. The top of the plank has been littered with a variety of bird seed products, and might I add, quite generously. I have had a few breaks in the routine when I was in the Midwest chasing bucks. Since I’ve been back though, the feeding schedule has been adhered to diligently. I find myself checking for visitors almost to the point of obsession. In fact, while I’m thinking about it, I’ll pause from my writing to take a quick peek. Be back in a minute. Nuts, nothing there. Oh well, I’ll keep trying.
I have indicated thus far that the backyard has been barren of birds and squirrels. This isn’t completely accurate. Even before I began enticing my future friends, I noticed several gray squirrels in the native oaks surrounding our home. Maybe these are country squirrels even though they live in the city and aren’t used to the high society bird seed that my squirrels in my previous neighborhood cherished so much. This is changing also, for I have noticed a couple of the bushytails visiting the plank several times. At least they have found the “bait” and time will tell if they come running to the crinkle of the bag as I spread good cheer to all the good little birds and squirrels.
In addition to the limb rats, I awakened the other morning from my long winter nap to the loud “cawing’ of crows. I eased the patio door open and what did appear but four marauding ravens pillaging the breakfast seeds. These are city crows, for they never paid any attention to me until I clapped my hands. I’ll have to see how this plays out, but I won’t tolerate these mongrels stealing the bounty and chasing away what I hope finds my offerings. There’s a country boy living here now, and I know a 12 gauge will startle my new neighbors. A .22 is out of the question as well. Hmm, maybe I’ll have to borrow a youngster’s pellet gun. I’ll keep you updated on this dilemma.
I did notice three cardinals this week. There were two males and one female that found the setting as well. Only once, have I noticed them, but then again, I have been consumed by a three-day virtual meeting that kept me bound to my chair. If they visited once, I bet they’ll come again. As soon as I saw them, I refreshed the bait pile. When I placed new gifts upon the plank, another small bird, a species I didn’t recognize, flew from hiding beneath an azalea. Maybe he, or she, had found some of the windblown delicacies beneath the shrubs and was partaking. So, you see, I’m getting there.
There has been a rufous-sided towhee inhabiting the magnolia tree in the front yard for months. Every morning, he pecks at a window or door with the intent, so it seems, of wanting in. Stacey has “shooed” him to the point of no return. She also has threatened with the old double-barrel. I think it is hilarious and I enjoy watching him. There have been strips of aluminum foil taped to the windows and doors to deter his presence.
Additionally, faces of people cut from magazines, have been taped to the windows. He leaves for a day or two, then voila, he shows back up. There must be some meaning to this creature hanging around and wanting in. Of course, who knows what it is. I like the little booger. He doesn’t fly far when spooked, and with the absence of friends on the plank, this gives me something to watch. Maybe he’ll find the plank also, and then, good luck running him off.
I can’t help wondering if my friends I left behind are waiting on me to share with them what I have for the past 10 years or so? They were so accustomed to me they barely scooted away when I scattered grain for them. I always thought that maybe a squirrel would eventually take a sunflower seed from my hand. Had I worked harder, I probably could have accomplished this. The risk of a finger leaving with the morsel was always there, so I didn’t pursue the feat. I think I’ll take a few bags of seeds to the purchasers of my home to continue the tradition for my critters I left behind. After all, tis the season for giving. I do know they enjoy the neighborhood wildlife as much as I do. Heck, I bet they’ve already begun the process.
I’ll keep you updated on what happens on the plank. I can’t remember how long it took to have a lawn full of “life” at my old home, but I’m sure it took a while. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is a wildlife sanctuary. I bet, or hope, or wish, that the trees, shrubs, and the plank, will be full of life soon. Christmas will have come early when I am greeted with tweets and chirps as I sip my coffee on a cold winter morning.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
