Recently, I decided to put up a bird feeder outside my office window, partly to feed the hungry birds and partly to amuse myself with their comings and goings. Now, ten days into the mission, I’ve determined several rules for feeding hungry birds in winter.
First, never assume their appetites are sated. When you hear the phrase, “She (or He) eats like a bird,” it is not complimentary. Birds are chowhounds; they eat until the food is gone, which is different from eating until they are full.
Birds are also territorial. I haven’t gotten it quite figured out but there is a hierarchy among them that seems to do with size. The bigger the bird, the more apt it is to command the feeder while the littler birds wait their turns.
They also feed at regular times. From 10 AM to about 4 PM, the feeder is the local gathering place. But outside of those hours, nobody goes near it. I’m not sure why.
I’ve had to contend with squirrels too. They think the food is for them, but I feel strongly that the bread I put out is for them while the birdseed is for my feathered friends. I’ve had to become aggressive in keeping a couple squirrels away from the bird feeder. They have figured out how to jump to the windowsill and then onto the feeder where they gorge themselves as much as any bird.
What works is to screech at them from behind my office window while waving my arms like a monster. I think there is something about the decibel in the screech that sends them packing. They stay away for a day or so but then return to try again. Suffice to say I’m ready with my screechy tones.
It’s a pleasant diversion, helping animals survive in winter. It is devoid of political consequence, doesn’t require sending troops anywhere, and isn’t about spin and delegates. It’s simply about helping out.
Leave a Reply