For the Birds

Today was "For the Birds." I decided to pause and do a little research before I tell you what that means in my world. To the best of my knowledge the phrase "For the Birds" has never been used in a positive context, save for some irony here and there. I'd assumed it was another one of those expressions coined by Shakespreare that nobody really understood but pretended to. But the "Phrase Scholars" I could find, can only trace it back to 1962. It was apparently a line from a novel titled, "Chicago Chick." In that context, and contexts to follow it apparently refers to the size of any particular bird's brain. "For the Birds" infers whatever the offering, it's aimed at those of lower intelligence. What pooh, eh?

I, a not very serious birder, can attest to some evidence of low intelligence quotients. I have a big reflective window looking out in the backyard. These birds apparently see their own images in the glass, but don't recognize their own profiles. They routinely fly right into the glass thinking they are about to greet a find feathered friend. I can't tell you how many times I've seen them knock themselves unconscious with this behavior.

"Aaah," I said the first time and administered first aid.

"Stupid bird," I said the hundreth time and just waited for the victim to stagger to its feet in a drunken stupor. I fight a real inclination to laugh. I'm fighting the urge to produce a laundry list of similar "bird brain" activity, because that's not what I'm thinking about.

If the birds are the dumb ones, why do I go out and spend a couple hundred dollars every Spring to make them happy? This year I bought a new "Oiler Feeder." For the uninitiated that's a bird feeder that holds black oil sunflower seeds. Those seeds have more protein in them then what we eat, protein needed to keep one's wings flapping. Let's see forty bucks for the feeder, and nine bucks for the plastic pan that fits underneath it to catch the crumbs.   And this year I updated the wooden house like looking feeder for the Suet, kind of like a greasy hamburger for birds. I did not have to replace the Thistle feeder designed exclusively for Gold Finches and Pine Siskens. But I did have to buy a new fifty pound bag of the tiny thistle seeds. For some unknown reason the gold finches haven't been coming around in their usual numbers.  My bird consultant says the latest remedy for that is to tie a yellow ribbon, yes yellow ribbon, around the feeder. The gold finches see that yellow ribbon as a sunflower? (ah, let's not go there) So one yellow ribbon, one dollar. That I've discovered also involves having to explain to neighbors that, "No, we do not have a family member in Iraq."

If my time and health are worth anything, there are other costs. I spent two hours cleaning out the heated bird bath, because birds for the most part are not house broken.  I'll spare you what I paid for the bird bath.

I also trimmed the mature growth around the yard so that the Juncos and other ground feeders don't become the protein source for local cats.

While they are not quite here yet, Peggy has mixed up her special sugar drink for the Hummingbirds.  I've yet to see a humming bird feeder that didn't drip it's syrupy concoction on to the ground ultimately becoming a dining table for ants. So of course that needs to be cleaned up.

Let me tell you about Robins and bird baths. Fill up that bird bath, the Robin shows up to wash the dust out of its wings, and its like the 900 pound man jumping off the high dive into the swimming pool. Say goodbye to the H20. I hope the water police don't find out how many times I have to fill it during the Spring.

Anyway, when I say "Today was for the Birds," I think you get picture. But probably not the whole picture.

To watch a "Say's Phoebe" hover like a helicopter eating thousands of insects a day, to watch two "Gold Finches" swirl around their feeder at incredible speeds, to watch a "Robin pair" build a nest and ultimately send their fluffy progeny out for a first flight, to watch the exhausting diligence of a Blue Bird couple building a nest in the birdhouse we provided, to hear the rustling and the loud songs of the tiny "Wrens" as they scurry around the ground, to see a crowd of "House Finches" occasionally intimidate a "Grackle," and yes even to watch a "Hawk" swoop down to snatch up one of those "Finches" for lunch, it's worth the time, the energy and the cost.

Today was "For the Birds." I just wish they wouldn't poop in the bird bath.