Watching birds

The birds have pretty much picked clean all the berries and seed heads in the yard leaving bare branches and stalks in their wake. With the early warming rays of the sun, they flock to the feeders in the front and back of our house.

Ground feeders like doves, pidgins, and juncos avoid the traffic jam on the sought after perches where ample seeds are available. There is little order to the feeding, rather sporadic frenzied approaches and retreats as each bird attempts to grab a few morsels.

Like my three meals a day, there seems to be specific times when groups of birds visit the feeders—first thing in the morning, mid-day when the sun is high, and then an hour or so before the sun sets. Perhaps this is a defensive mechanism as I have seen the local hawks grab a bird off one of my feeders. In a group, there is always a warning cry of danger.

A heated bird bath free of ice nearby gives the birds a chance to wash down their meals and bodies. Their flickering around the house is one of the few signs of life outside. And the pair of bluebirds perched on a feeder represent a rare bit of color.