I’m a bird watcher. No, I’m not a birder. I’m not into birding. I certainly am not an ornithologist.
Britain's Birding Magazine explains the difference. “Birder : The acceptable term used to describe the person who seriously pursues the hobby of birding. May be professional or amateur. Birding: A hobby in which individuals enjoy the challenge of bird study, listing, or other general activities involving bird life. Bird-watcher : A rather ambiguous term used to describe the person who watches birds for any reason at all, and should not be used to refer to the serious birder.” Ornithologists: term for scientists that study birds using formal scientific methods.
I had a friend who was a birder. When she visited us, she carried her binoculars wherever we went in hopes of spotting a bird she had not seen before. She frequently traveled with folks devoted solely to birding. She kept detailed records of the birds she had seen and where. Also in working with one of the nature organizations, she helped track migratory patterns of the birds that sought refuge in her yard throughout the year.
Regardless of how intense our observations may be, Irish essayist Robert Lynd sets the perspective. “In order to see birds, it is necessary to become a part of the silence.”
The hummingbirds
Retirement has given us the luxury to sit for long periods of time on our back porch and watch the birds. Ever since we hung a hummingbird feeder several years ago, these small creatures have entertained us royally. With an oak tree very close to the feeder, we now know these tiny birds, perfectly camouflaged in the tree, can also sit for long periods of time. Until we placed the feeder near a perching place, we had assumed that they hovered most of the time. They rarely sit on the feeder rail; there they hover.
We’ve also discovered that they are very selfish. The feeder has six holes for the birds. As soon one claims the feeder as his own, he sits on a tree branch, waits, and chases away any intruder. He never sees butterflies nor bees as intruders, but then, they can’t access the sugar water. On rare occasions, he may tolerate a female taking a sip. When the liquid runs low, the resident hummingbird will hover close to Bob, as if to tell him it’s time to replenish the nourishment.
This past winter we finally purchased seed to put into our lighthouse shaped multilevel bird feeder. For a few days, a variety of birds flocked to the seeds. While the hummingbird won’t share, a variety of birds feasted together from this feeder. That is, they enjoyed the spread until the squirrels discovered the feeder and literally tore it apart to get to the seeds.
The redwing blackbirds
This year, we’ve watched redwing blackbirds build two nests in the very flimsy branches of shrubbery growing along the bank of a tidal creek. It resembled a two-room apartment complex. The male red wings seemed as much a part of the nesting process as the females. They helped to build the nest. But when it came time for sitting on the eggs, the females took over. They sat and sat. We finally realized that the eggs had hatched when the females began to make trip after trip from the nest, always returning with a morsel in their beaks.
While the males might not take over feeding chores, they stood vigil. One morning, one scene sent me to the banister to be closer to the action. A male red bird was chasing a black snake across the yard. Every time the snake hesitated, the male bird flew low and began pecking. It didn’t take the snake long to exit the yard. Hatchlings grew to fledglings and now both nests stand abandoned.
The house finch
As we ate breakfast one morning, a small house finch tried to build a nest in a pot with a Christmas cactus near our back door. Immediately, we removed the straw and covered the plant with my husband's work cap. She tried to continue her nest on top of the hat. I grabbed a towel to cover the entire plant. She got the message.
By midmorning, she had completed her nest in a pot of purple queen, farther down the porch. For her, it’s not especially convenient because it’s near our stairway. There’s a lot of traffic in the area. But we’ve left her alone and she laid several eggs. And as I write, she’s now feeding her hungry brood. She flies circuitous routes time and time again. No two flight patterns appear the same. Just watching her endless trips tires me.
We find great pleasure in watching these birds nest, eat and feed their brood. We also marvel that our feathered friends demonstrate so many human characteristics, from the selfishness of hummingbirds to the selflessness of mama birds caring for their young to the males assuming a very protective stance.
When we, with our first cups of coffee for the morning, move to the porch, we’re usually greeted by the cheery warbles of a variety of birds welcoming the day. And we, too, are always grateful for the new day.
2014
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