Nature Connection: For The Love Of Birds

 By the time you read this, August will be here in all her summer splendor. July will be sneaking out the back door, and with her will go many things, including the plethora of baby birds that have been hatching, fledging, and preparing for life on their own

 Some will fatten up and prepare to migrate while others will prepare for life year-round in a place that is not always hospitable to small feathered creatures. Some will not make it.

 For years, I’ve planted for the birds, bees and wildlife, and our tiny yard is a testament to this effort. In over 40 years we’ve never used fertilizer other than compost, pesticides or herbicides. Our yard is alive with the sound of creatures throughout the year.

 The most noticeable are the birds. As I write, several male goldfinches are helping themselves to fresh sunflower seeds from the huge dying blossoms once full of bees. At the oriole feeder constantly refreshed with grape jelly and orange halves, I can hear the bickering between the young orioles and catbirds as they vie for dominance and the best pickings. The blueberries I spread out on the table are long gone and the birdbath is busy with grackles and an assortment of other yard birds such as song sparrows. I have to change the water often as it gets messy with all the action.

 Catbirds and mockingbirds still have nestlings in their second rounds of nesting but most others, such as the various woodpeckers, robins, cardinals, wrens, and sparrows, are done for the season. The young ones are learning the ropes and helping to keep pests out of the gardens. I lose a few tomatoes to them over the summer, but it is worth it. They prefer the bugs and worms they find.

 It is difficult to adequately explain my love of these young birds. I joyfully watch them grow from tiny fledglings with fat yellow beaks and no tail feathers to sleek young birds learning to be watchful and productive as they search for food.

 They try out different behaviors, beginning with the begging behavior they learned in the nest. Once the parent birds have moved on, they will beg from anything with a beak. They often beg from other young birds like themselves who are equally confused and mimic the same behavior.

 The oriole feeder and birdbath are placed where I can easily see them from my studio, and over the last few weeks I’ve spent many hours simply enjoying the antics of all the birds who visit. Red-bellied woodpeckers love oranges and can clean out an orange half in minutes. First the adults came alone, but now the young ones are at the feeder as well. They are big enough and bold enough to keep the catbirds and orioles waiting in nearby branches, but the minute they move on the others take over. Often the orioles win spots over the catbirds, at least at first, but as they’ve gotten older, they share the space more readily. 

 The days of these young birds sharing their lives with me will soon be over. They are gradually learning to find wild food on their own, and I see and hear them as they work their way through the wild berries and insect populations. We have given up on the raspberries as they are a favorite of most of the birds in the yard, including the young blue jays. Soon the pokeberries will be ripe.

 Young blue jays are always amusing to watch and listen to as they learn the ropes. Our threesome has become a twosome, and I’m not sure if one just moved on or if the Cooper’s hawk or neighbor’s cat had something to do with their disappearance. The hawks nest nearby, as do a few crows, so there is always some natural attrition, but less as the young birds become more savvy.

 I have always loved watching the birds. As a child, they seemed magical to me, flying here and there, bursting into song whenever they felt like it. They obviously didn’t have the same rules that I did as a little girl who still held her mother’s or father’s hand when she went for a walk. I wasn’t allowed to spit out a food I didn’t care for, and I definitely couldn’t fly, though I did practice while jumping off the swing that hung on a tree in our backyard.

 As I got older my fascination with birds entertained the adults around me. I came from a family that always had a bird feeder, binoculars and a big old bird book to look things up in. I was given the set of bird cards that Audubon put out, with a picture on the front and the information on the back, and because I was sick and bedbound for much of my childhood, I memorized them for fun. 

 Anyone who spends time with young children knows that when they have an interest, they fill themselves up with as much information as they can gather. For some it is dinosaurs, for others types of tractors or trucks. For me, it was birds. 

 Over the years my love of birds has never waned. Other interests have come and gone, but I will always check out the bird flying over the trees outside the window. Ironically, I am not a list maker, and I don’t chase unusual birds. I am content to watch the ones I am familiar with, to enjoy their little and big personalities and the beauty of even the most subtle plumages.

 Birds are smart, fairly adaptable, and quickly disappearing. It’s not hard for me to imagine a day when another young girl will read a book about birds and wonder why we let them become extinct. It hurts my heart to imagine this, especially as I watch two young catbirds squabble over the last blueberry.