Food Fight

 

Fruit Basket Upset

 

Nearly a week ago, in the early light of dawn, something looked out of place at the hummingbird feeder out our back window. A male Baltimore Oriole, dressed in brilliant orange and black, was perched there trying to sip a liquid breakfast. 

 

Male Baltimore Oriole

 

Female Baltimore Oriole

 

These birds sometimes migrate through our area, and although we'd heard reports of them here in the past few years, it has been four years since we've seen any in our yard. Some years, they spend a night or two and are gone, but that year they came in a large flock and stayed for a fortnight. Their antics became a typical conversation starter. Instead of "Get your turkey?" the standard greeting in town was "Are you feeding the orioles?" 

 

Attached to our deck, near the bird feeder, is a bare cedar tree, and the limbs make good perches for birds. They also provide an excellent place to skewer oranges, so I cut some in half and decorated the tree with the juicy fruit. It didn't take the orioles long to notice. 

 

 

 

They would fly down from their perch high in the hickory tree, land near an orange, and dig in, scrounging out every morsel and picking the oranges clean, like a lion cleaning the bones of its prey. They are endlessly entertaining, and for the most part, the oranges have kept them off the hummingbird feeders.

 

 

Squirrels and titmice have checked out the oranges, too, and lately, the woodpeckers have been gathering the orange pulp with their long tongues. Unfortunately, as much as we like woodpeckers, they can sometimes make a mess at the hummingbird feeders and also deprive the tiny birds of their nectar. So here's a thought; if we could get the woodpeckers trained to oranges, maybe they'd stay off the hummingbird feeders.

For a while last evening, the hummingbirds were on their feeders, the orioles were on the oranges, and the woodpeckers were eating sunflower seeds and bugs. Everything was as it should be. Then a hummingbird started drinking from the orange. What's next? We can only wonder.

 

Traveling Music Show

 There's a new show in town at our favorite venue--outside our kitchen windows. Composed by the Master of song, the music repeats familiar themes in rich, sweet tones. The costumes are elaborate. Tangerine orange feathers embroidered in black and white flutter in the breeze.

Admission is one half orange, placed in a conspicuous place, and it's well worth the price. But don't wait--they won't be here long.

The show, of course, is Baltimore Orioles passing through our area on their way north and east from their wintering grounds in Mexico. They arrived at our house yesterday, just after the hickory trees started to tassel, and they search for insects high in the trees. We hope they find all the caterpillars.

Blue jays are surprised to find a small bird that they can't intimidate. 

The birds are agile and entertaining and keep us guessing what they'll do next.

One thing is certain, though, as long as they're here, they'll be eating oranges.


Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Sweet Music

An unfamiliar melody high in the trees caught my attention last week. I heard the sweet lilting music a few times before I could connect it with the singer, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak. These striking birds are only occasional visitors here, passing through in the spring, and now at least one pair is frequenting the oak trees, eating the tassels. They are quite welcome to them. They also make themselves at home at our birdbath and feeders.

The male wears his heart on his throat. When he sings, he barely opens his beak, but the throat patch moves like a fluttering heartbeat.

It's been five years since we've heard one of the Baltimore Oriole's rich tunes.  

A couple of years ago, we heard reports of sightings in Protem, which is heartbreakingly close to us,

 but the birds never made it to our place, at least, not while we were looking, which is much of the time.  

They are fond of oranges, so I cut one in half and put it out on the table on our deck. 

I was happy to learn that they love mandarins, too, since I had a bag of them on hand. 

The male matches them perfectly and stretches to eat every last morsel.

The female's coloration is more subtle...

...but she is no less energetic when it comes to digging out sweet morsels.

When they sing for their supper, we definately get the best end of the deal.

Linking with Saturday's Critters
Wild Bird Wednesday
and Mandarin Orange Monday

Waiting

I've long been drawn to the idea that a creature praises the Creator by doing what it was created to do.  In the movie Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddell, the Olympic runner, was born to missionary parents in China.  In a scene early in the movie, Eric had a discussion with his sister, who thought he should give up his competitive running to become a missionary. Eric saw his running, rather, as a way to glorify God, before he returned to China to do mission work.  Eric responded to his sister in this way, "I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast.  And when I run I feel His pleasure."

  

There's a passage in the Psalms that speaks about all creation praising God:

"Praise the Lord... 

lightning and hail, snow and clouds,

 stormy winds that do His bidding...

you mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars,

wild animals and all cattle,

small creatures and flying birds,...

young men and maidens, old men and children.

Let them praise the name of the Lord, for His name alone is exalted:

His splendor is above the earth and the heavens."

Psalm 148:7-13

It's easy to think of an oriole lifting its melody in praise to God, or a lily, dispersing its fragrance, its beauty reflecting the glory of the One who made it, but what about that cold bare bulb under the ground,  waiting for a signal from the sun?

Could not its praise be in the waiting, too?