Immigration Chaos by Betsy Ashton

Whites, browns, yellows, blacks

Screeching, shoving—

Gang warfare @ the bird feeder

It's that time of year again. My bird feeder is collapsing under the weight of all the birds migrating north and immigrating to summer ranges where I live.

Who knew the mixed flocks could eat through ten pounds of seed every day? And more, if I filled a second feeder, but I don't. One is enough right now. One is all my kitty can monitor. No, she doesn't eat birds, but they keep her mesmerized for hours, both when she's inside on her perch and outside on the deck under the feeder.

Who knew cardinals could be so grumpy early in the morning? Bright red and looking miserable with hunched shoulderc, the male glared at me this morning. He was sitting next to the feeder, which he and the missus had drained of food. He was not amused until I refilled, and he had his turn to get a bellyful.

Who knew the mixed flocks would arrive so early? I didn't. Is this a sign of global warming, or the result of a shared message on the bird underground—plenty of food at the log house in the woods by the big lake?  Could be either. 

Who knew smaller woodpeckers and nuthatches actually come to bird feeders? I've seen plenty of nuthatches over the years, but the small woodpeckers were a welcome addition. At least I welcomed them. Not too sure about the grumpy cardinal.

Who knew titmice (titmouses??) were bullies? I always thought the blue jays were the bullies, but they aren't here yet. I've watched titmice dive bomb the kitty when she was peacefully minding her business on the lower deck under the feeder. I've watched them beat the Carolina chickadees away, so that they had to snatch a beakful and head for a branch. No sitting on the feeder perch and eating his fill for the saucy male chickadee.

Thank goodness the pileated woodpeckers wait until the carpenter bees drill holes in our house. Then, they rat-a-tat their way into the nest. The bees leave perfectly round holes; the woodpeckers leave ugly gouges. This week has been too cold for the carpenter bees. Glad the woodpeckers have been hammering on trees further down the block. What a wonderful wake up call at dawn.

Who knew how much fun it could be watching the warring birds beat each other nearly silly over a beakful of seed? 

I'm so glad squirrels don't have prehensile tails, of the grumpy cardinal would be even grumpier.

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Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences and Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery. She has a new short story in 50 Shades of Cabernet. Her works have appeared in several anthologies and on NPR.

Bird-chirping Weather by Christine DePetrillo

I recently read a meme that said, “Bird-chirping weather is my favorite weather.” I agree, and May has wonderful bird-chirping weather. I’ve been enjoying writing in The Outdoor Writing Office ever since I opened it back in April, but the bird chirping has only just reached full capacity this month.

I have two feeders in my backyard habitat, which has been specifically designed to attract birds (and butterflies). I frequently have visits from crows, blue jays, cardinals, robins, doves, finches, black-capped chickadees, warblers, sparrows, nuthatches, grackles, wrens, acorn woodpeckers, and my favorite guest, the northern flicker. I live for the moments when a sampling of all these birds are in the yard at the same time, singing their songs and enjoying the buffet I have put out for them.

We have a small, husband-made stream and pond in our yard too. 

Robins love to swim in it. They dunk themselves under the water, flap their wings, sending a spray all over their bodies, then fly up to our peach tree to preen. They don’t seem to mind that my German Shepherd is in the yard as well, watching their every move. He doesn’t seem to mind them either. They have an “understanding.”

The squirrels are not so lucky.

I like to think that birds are out there in the neighborhood telling other birds to stop by the DePetrillos for a bite to eat and a bath. As if I’m running a bird resort of sorts. I welcome them all and invite them to sing their songs for me. I usually listen to music when I write, but not when I’m outside.

When I’m outside, the birds provide the tunes and it’s perfect writing music. No words. All natural. Totally inspirational.

Learn to GARDEN FOR WILDLIFE HERE if you want to attract birds and other creatures to your yard.

Learn more about BIRDS HERE.

What’s your favorite bird? How would you describe the weather in May where you live?

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

The Maple Leaf Series, all six books, now available. Book One, More Than Pancakes, is always FREE in ebook! Get started today!

That Cuckoo flew under the car! ~ by Leah St. James

I had a hard time coming up with something for this month’s theme without getting too dark. (I tend to go  dark to begin with, and the “cuckoo” topic lures me even darker.) But something happened this morning that made me think of cuckoos in a different way, and I figured I’d share.

I was driving with my son near our home, and as we approached an intersection, a small, dark bird kamikazed itself at our front grill. We were only going about 30 MPH to begin with, and he attempted to stop, but it happened so fast, there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

Photo Courtesy of morgueFile

As we continued forward, we both checked the mirrors to see if there was any evidence of dead bird in the road—but nothing. Then we wondered if it was actually stuck in the front grille. We checked when we stopped the car, and thankfully it, too, was free of bird guts.

Then my son said, “What is wrong with these birds in Virginia?! They’re crazy! They’re always flying right at the car, or the tires! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve swerved to miss one of the stupid creatures.” (He's like his mother. He gets a little melodramatic when confronted with something compelling enough.)

Having seen no proof of a dead bird in this case, I told him not to worry about it. But he had a point. It's happened to me many, many times, and it got me wondering. Why do birds do that? Is it coincidental—they’re flying along (like three feet off the ground), and a big, old car happens along and gets in their way? Or, like my son seems to believe, do they see the car from a perch high above the roadway and purposely aim for it?

So I did what I always do when an intriguing puzzle comes along…I Googled “Why do birds fly in front of cars?” I found an online forum on straightdope.com from Julyof 2002 where someone had posed this exact question. There were a number of theories posited, like:  Birds are playful, and maybe they’re playing chicken. (:-)) Or they perceive the car as a giant threat to a nearby nest so go on the attack. 

The one I found most plausible claimed that cars create an updraft, a current of air that birds ride, like we might ride a wave in the ocean. What a neat idea, but so potentially hazardous to our feathered friends! 

I hope that little bird made it across the street just fine, but if he didn’t, I hope my car’s updraft gave him the ride of his life. (Ouch? Did I really just write that?)

Happy reading and writing, all!

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Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil, and the enduring power of love. Learn more at LeahStJames.com.