Be Not Idle

One of my pleasures is having birdfeeders. In my very first apartment, my roommate and I hung a birdfeeder from the upstairs neighbour’s balcony. We got the typical citydwellers: sparrows, grackles, and enormous red squirrels that would tip the feeder and spill all the seed onto the ground.

Where I live now, I have a hanging feeder and suet cage. Both have been getting a workout in the last two weeks. Chickadees, cardinals, juncos, nuthatches, titmice, and woodpeckers (downy, hairy, and red-bellied) visit regularly. However, the colder weather has brought flocks into my little backyard. I’ve had as many as 25 mourning doves on the lawn and innumerable voracious starlings.

However, the real piranhas of the birdfeeder don’t have wings. This morning was typical: five squirrels having a party. They’re Eastern gray squirrels, but four were the black version so common in this area of Michigan. The smallest was a young grey who is missing half a tail. It was nosing through the snow, looking for sunflower seeds the bluejays had missed.

The biggest (and fattest and glossiest) was doing some sort of martial arts training. He hung upside-down from the suet cage, doing crunches ever time he curled up to gnaw at the sunflower seeds. Perhaps he’s in training to beat up the neighbourhood cat who “sings” on my porch and occasionally strews my yard with feathers. If so, I wish him well.