Birding will never be boring as long as there are back yards. I hope yours has been as amusing as mine this month.
I confess, I didn’t feed birds much in 2024, ever since a young female bear took an unhealthy interest last spring. Even after all the bears went into winter slumber, I was slow to return a single feeder to its customary, now-bent pole. Many months passed before a single morsel was offered to my backyard neighbors.
The moment I put out a feeder, soon after Christmas, the chickadees, nuthatches and titmice pounced on it like it was an NFL playoff fumble.
This alerted the blue jays and mourning doves. Within minutes, it seemed like every jay and dove within a half-mile knew the banquet table had been reset.
Then a pair of northern cardinals settled in. This was curious, because they don’t nest in my neighborhood, nor is there a suitable nesting habitat nearby. They only love me for my food supply. How did they know, and where did they come from?
Last week, I finally put out a suet feeder, more specifically what was left of it after the bear ripped it apart. A hairy woodpecker was on it instantly, like a Labrador retriever on a treat. How long had he been watching and waiting? How did he know that twisted cage contained food?
Soon thereafter, a red-bellied woodpecker joined the feast. I derived great backyard entertainment from watching how fast birds identify a food source, and how quickly other birds catch on. No doubt, they watch each other.
The cardinal, titmouse and red-bellied woodpecker entertained me for a second reason. None of them were in my yard 20 years ago.
As the climate warms, southern birds keep moving north. Meanwhile, white-breasted nuthatches are my only nuthatch visitors these days. My long-dependable red-breasted nuthatches disappeared a year ago and never returned, not even in nesting season.
The activity at my rural Maine birdfeeder today resembles what a Connecticut birdfeeder would have looked like not long ago.
They’re not at my house yet, but another southern bird is advancing north. Carolina wrens are showing up on porches all over Maine. I’ll welcome their arrival. Like all wrens, Carolina wrens are bold, inquisitive and comfortable around people. They’re also wicked noisy, perpetually interrupting the silence of a cold winter morning.
My third source of backyard entertainment is bird behavior. Each species has its own seed-stealing strategy.
Birds with heavy bills can open any seed easily. A couple of dark-eyed juncos are cracking seeds in my yard right now. They can linger in the open and dine at their leisure, and are able to look around for danger while cleaving the shell and removing the meat. Finches and sparrows are equally adept.
Small birds with a varied diet are forced to be sneakier. Chickadees, nuthatches and titmice dine on seeds, but also probe tree bark for caterpillars and spiders. Due to their slimmer, pointed bills, they must look at a seed to poke it open. That momentarily distracts them from watching for predators. They prefer to dart in, grab a seed, and quickly retreat to safety when seed-feeding.
The bigger birds visit in flocks. They can linger in the open, arguing with each other about a spot on the feeder, counting on the entire group to be vigilant for danger. The mourning doves are currently arriving in huge flocks, grabbing food like it’s all-you-can-eat shrimp night at a favorite restaurant. Then, when every dove is satisfied, they head back under cover until hunger pangs strike again.
The doves are also the earliest to get started, hitting my feeders before dawn when most hawks aren’t even out of bed yet.
A fourth source of entertainment is subtle. I’m bemused by the birds that aren’t in my backyard. Every winter is different. So far, I’ve not seen a single redpoll, pine siskin or American tree sparrow. They’re here some years, gone the next.
Meanwhile, the squirrels have been equally engaging, though not always in a good way. A bumper crop of acorns has led to an equal crop of squirrels. The gray squirrels are behaving so far, despite being so numerous. My re-hung feeders are well-defended by baffles, thwarting every attempt to reach the birdseed.
On the other hand, red squirrels have infiltrated and colonized my garage three times. Flying squirrels have moved into the attic. This means war, again. They’re winning.
When it comes to appreciating wildlife, there’s no place like home.
