First Responder

A thud against the window yesterday sent me to the bedroom to check for a downed bird. Occasionally, one will crash, and sometimes a little help can influence their chances of recovery. Scanning the rocks below the window, I didn’t see the bird at first. A chirping sound drew my attention to a titmouse perched in a nearby tree. He would chirp, and then look below him. Following his gaze, I located the injured bird on the ground, another titmouse, well camouflaged on the gray rocks. “At least its buddy is looking out for him,” I thought.

When a bird hits a window, the first thing I try to do is turn them right side up. It seems to increase their chances of survival. But today, I watched in amazement as the titmouse on the limb swooped down and righted his stunned companion. 

A moment later, I had a second surprise. The First Responder Titmouse started viscously attacking the fallen one.

It wasn’t until I noticed another bird watching the fight from the tree, that a light flipped on in my brain. This was a fight over that sweet thing batting her eyelids in the tree branch. The bird on the ground wasn’t able to fly, but it could run pretty well. Still, it didn’t stand a chance. The aggressor pummeled him while he tried to escape, then flew up to the tree to bask in the admiring gaze of his cheerleader. This cycle was repeated several times.

Those little birds can tilt their head and look winsome, but when the claws come out, pity the underdog.

At last check, none of the birds were in sight, so I’ll have to assume that the vanquished bird picked up the pieces of his shattered life and moved on, and the happy couple is setting up housekeeping. I always hope for happy endings.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Avian Testimonials

Early this week, with the ground dry and parched and the temperature plunging like an elevator in free-fall, the birds at our feeders were ravenous. It seemed like a good time to mix up some suet.

Suet is easy to make. Here's my recipe:

1 cup lard
1 cup crunchy peanut butter
1 cup oatmeal
2 cups unsalted sunflower seeds, shelled
1 cup flaxseed meal or yellow cornmeal
1/2 cup raisins

Melt the lard and peanut butter in a large saucepan, and mix in the other ingredients. Spoon into molds (I used the bottom 2 inches of plastic cups), press the mix together, and freeze. Sometimes, I also press the mix into pinecones.

When the suet was frozen and out of the molds, I made a hole with a skinny nail through the center of each one, then threaded a thin wire through the hole, and hung them in a tree near our feeder, where the birds were sure to notice them.

It's always nice when your cooking is appreciated. 

When the food is devoured and they come back for more, it's better than 5 stars on the internet.

Consider these photos visual testimonials.

Of course, there's Winterberry for desert.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

and Saturday's Critters

Morning Praise

On this bright new morning, a robin greets the sun from her favorite fencepost.

Two bucks, most likely two year old twins...

now spar, preparing to be rivals. 

A juvenile purple finch perches on the supplejack,

and a tufted titmouse is silhouetted against an orange sky.

They all give praise to their Maker, doing what He created them to do.

Years ago, we used to sing a children's song in church, 

one that I believe holds true for God's children of any age:

The birds upon the treetops sing their song;

The angels chant their chorus all day long;

The flowers in the garden blend their hue,

So why shouldn't I, why shouldn't you praise Him, too?

If you'd like to see a very cute video of a little girl singing this,

click here.

Linking with Little Things Thursday,

 Good Fences 

and

Wild Bird Wednesday

Opportunist

New green tinges the hills and dogwoods are in full bloom,

their white bracts like spots of light scattered through the woods.  

Lilacs send their fragrance through the air, inviting bees and butterflies, 

and the icy days of winter seem far behind us.  

Aside from all of that, it would still be apparent that spring has arrived, 

because the tufted titmice are coming around looking for nesting materials. 

Early yesterday morning, while I was thinning out the radishes in a big pot near the house, 

minding my own business, 

one of my wide-eyed friends flew in for a visit.  

She made herself quite at home in my hair, 

pausing occasionally to rest on my shoulder or the top of my head, 

but mainly it was all business.  

For all the pulling and rearranging the little thing did, 

I don't think she made off with much.  

If she had, I'd be wearing a hat by now.

Come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea.





A post script: This may well be the same bird that came around last year.
You can see it here.


Thanks Don, for taking the pictures.

Linking with Camera Critters,
Saturday's Critters
and Wild Bird Wednesday

Food and Shelter

After some promising signs of spring, winter is back in full force.  Sleet, like tiny frozen styrofoam balls, fell all day Sunday and piled up, covering the ground.  By yesterday morning, it was a solid mass of ice, laying under the cushion of snow that fell overnight.

In the wee hours of the morning, Don fired up the wood furnace, and by the time I got up, it was already cozy inside.  Church was cancelled on account of the weather, and so we busied ourselves at home.

Outdoors, the birds were very active, searching for food to keep themselves warm.  Cedar waxwings have been here for a few days.  They fly with the pinpoint precision of the Blue Angels, as if some inner radar tells all of them the exact spot in the air at which they must pivot.  They swirl in the sky in perfect sync, praising the One who gave them flight.

Yesterday they gathered on a tree limb, facing the wind, displaying their red wing tips and the yellow on the end of their tails.  As their name indicates, they  appear to have dipped their feathers in bright hot wax before they started their day.  In a moment, like falling leaves, they cascaded down to the birdbath and drank their fill, thanking the One who provides for them.

On a branch outside our window, one particularly fluffed up bird shivered against the cold, and periodically, opened his mouth.  He seemed to be catching the sleet, and appeared to be somewhat surprised by the result.

   

He glanced my way, as if to say, "How cool was that?"

As the daylight disappears, they retreat to their quarters, often in the cedars, 

where they wait for the light of a new day, entrusting themselves to the One who shelters them.

You are worthy, our Lord and God,

to receive glory and honor and power,

for you created all things, 

and by your will they were created

and have their being.

Revelation 4:11

He cares for those who trust in Him.

Naham 1:7

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Waiting For Water to Boil

Titmice have been feasting lately on a sunflower seed head on a table on the deck.  

They come one at a time, 

harvesting the seeds in neat rows before they eat them or store them away.

Meanwhile, the monarch chrysalis continues to darken.

The caterpillar to monarch butterfly should take 10 to 14 days,

or so I've read;

this is day twelve, and it's starting to feel like waiting for water to boil.

 From the deck, Barley watches me as I watch the cocoon.

"Wake me up when it happens."

Linking with Camera Critters

Transitions

It's early September, and already there are signs that things are changing.  

Wild grapes are starting to ripen, and overhead, 

blue-winged teal have passed in swift flight, heading for their winter home.

This time of year, many of our feathered visitors are fairly new to the world.  

A young red-bellied woodpecker balances with his stubby tail 

as his long tongue probes for treasures between the boards on our deck...

before contemplating the food in the feeder.

Newly fledged purple finches come singly and in groups.  

They seem unafraid; 

I nearly had to chase one away to fill the bird feeder yesterday.  

Their flight skills haven't been honed yet, 

and we root them on as they flutter in the air, trying to find a perch.  

Aren't landings tricky?

Young titmice find dozens of ways to entertain themselves...

and us.

These young birds will be here through the winter, but the hummingbirds are preparing for their long migration south.  They swarm the feeders, like teenagers at an iphone sale, the wind from their tiny wings rustling petals of the cleome below, and fanning our faces when we stand close.  They drink from the feeders and the surrounding flowers as if their life depended on it, which in fact it may; a third of them will be lost in their grueling upcoming flight over the ocean.

We'll miss their chatter and the hum of their wings, their brilliant flashes of color and startling animation.

In our changing world, it's good to know one constant.  The Savior who loves us and gave His life for us, is always true, and extends His mercy day after day, in every season.

For the Lord is good and His love endures forever;

His faithfulness continues though all generations.

Psalm 100:5





Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Home Depot

On clear mornings, before the heat has risen and the tasks of the day have crowded in, I like to sit on the deck and read my Bible.  It's the best way I know to start the day.  When I first go out, the yard is silent, then, little by little, the wild things pick up their normal activity, and the sounds of life return.

Lately I've had company. Here's the pattern; from the nearby hickory tree I hear the wingbeats of a bird going to and from the feeder.  I hold my breath as the sound comes closer and a tufted titmouse swoops into sight.  It flies to the table in front of me, then flits from chair to chair, cocking its head and studying me to be sure I'm not a threat.  That satisfied, the little titmouse is in the air again, and I feel its wings brush my hair.  After several false starts, it gathers courage, and sits down on my head.  Once there, there's a lot of hair arranging before little beautician flies away. 

These birds usually build nests in tree cavities; if I didn't know that, I'd think they were starting one on my head.  More likely, they're just looking for nesting material, like a local version of Home Depot, and I'm happy to fill that need, as long as they don't get carried away.

When we were kids, Mom drew heavily from a collection of adages to teach us lessons.  I'm reminded of her often repeated one about worries:

You can't keep a bird from flying over your head, 

but you can keep it from making a nest in your hair.

Don sneaked these pictures the other day from the house, and I didn't even know I was married to a paparazzi.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
and Camera Critters

Country Music

It's only February, and already, the air is filled with music.

Flocks of robins have been here for over a week now. 

 They settle on the birdbaths  in the mornings...

...and perch on the supplejack.

  The trees and sky overhead are alive with their flights.

Winterberry trees, above the edges of the lake,
have been almost stripped of their shiny red berries,
and in the woods, the cedar berries are nearly gone.

In exchange for this food, these birds enrich everyone's lives with their melodies.

Robins aren't the only birds singing just now, but I think they started it,
and the others have been emboldened by their example.

At night, coyotes sing a varied repertoire.
Soon, the screech owls will join them with their eerie music,
as they search for their mates.

Last night, as I walked toward the pond, I heard a solo peep from a spring peeper,
one of those small vocal tree frogs, and then an unmistakeable trill.
A second frog backed up the virtuoso, and then another joined in,
before the full chorus saturated the night air.

When I first moved to this quiet place from the city, I thought I would miss the concerts.

Little did I know.




Linking with
Wild Bird Wednesday.

Will Pose For Peanut Butter

  "This looks interesting...

... smells good."

"Oh, yum!"

"I'll be back!"

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Tight Quarters

The dried sunflower on our front porch has seen better days.  The summer before last, it's golden blossom smiled down on the corn and tomatoes in a friend's garden.  When the seeds matured, it came to me as a gift, and I hung it upside-down on our front porch for the birds. Within days, hungry tufted titmice had stripped it of its seeds.

That sunflower had another function, though, my favorite one.  Last winter, every night, two Carolina wrens would tuck into its cavity and sleep the night away.

Summer came; the birds found another place to nest, and the sunflower was consigned to a shelf in the shop.  There, besides providing a few nibbles for a visiting mouse, it gathered dust.

I hung it out again this fall, on the chance of seeing the wrens again.  One evening about a week ago, when I had all but given up, they appeared.  Since then, they've been coming every night shortly after sundown.  They jostle for position before settling in, and by the time we walk Barley, a couple of hours later, all we can see is the tips of their tail feathers, near enough to touch, but we wouldn't dare disturb them.

These two little birds have each other, and a cozy shelter.  At this Christmas season, would that everyone could have the same.

Joy to the world! the Lord has come;

Let earth receive her king;

Let every heart prepare Him room,

 And Heaven and nature sing...



Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas!



Thanks to Kim Klassen for the use of her textures.
Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday