A New Hobby

At the start of summer, my son Cooper asked for a birdfeeder. I'm not 100% sure why, but it's not an extravagant or out of left field request, so we bought it for him. It took me a week or so to buy the seed then another week to set it up. Since I put it up, I can't get enough of it, seeing if I can identify the birds that visit my little bird feeder. I obsess over seeds and making sure there's enough for them. I'm not this diligent with my dog. You know it's weird when your wife says that she got you a surprise and when you find out it's a 40 pound bag of bird seed, there aren't enough kisses to show your appreciation.

I'll perch on the front porch as quietly as I can, my writing notebook and pen in hand, though I don't write when the feeder is busy, I'm too busy meeting with my new friends. There's been the requisite robins and at least three different kinds of sparrows. I call them the Jets (Robins) and Sharks (Sparrows). Lately the Jets haven't been visiting as much. Quite a few doves join the mix along with a real gang of grackles  that unsuccessfully tries to intimidate the other, smaller birds. A few couples join the buffet. A pair of cardinals, Ralph and Alice, that visit several times a day while a pair of pigeons, Henry and Karen, show up the same time every day to partake (Bonus points if you get the reference, double bonus points if you REALLY get the reference). On a rainy afternoon the smorgasbord was attended by a pair of orioles. They're aristocrats names Thurston and Lovey. I saw a bright yellow goldfinch and a red crested lark.Then there's Bart the Blue Jay. That little bastard will sit on the power line and squawk at me until I go inside. I won't even go into the mammals that join the group, which has included several rabbits, two chipmunks and possibly a raccoon.

A few days ago, I gave my wife the rundown of what I'd seen that day. She looked at me with something short of incredulity and said, "I didn't know that you were that into birds."

"Neither did I," I responded. 

Bird watching is serious business and I don't know if I'm built for it. This is not a disparagement of the activity. It requires a great deal of patience and diligence, two things I am not equipped for. But I'm trying.

A few afternoons ago, I was returning home from running errands. As I walked up the driveway, I looked over to my, I mean my son's bird feeder. It was in need of a refill. I scanned the remaining area and saw at least 20 birds staring back at me like the movie THE BIRDS. I'm old enough that it still scared me. I moved a little faster as I waddled my way, penguin-like, into the house.