March 8: When I had the house, there were 3 bird feeders in the back yard: one for sunflower seeds, one for Niger seeds, and one for suet. During the winter there were flocks of Sparrows, Jays, Finches and Chickadees going for the sunflower seed. The Goldfinches ate Niger seed almost exclusively, and the Nuthatches and Downey Woodpeckers went for suet. There were Cardinals who would commandeer the sunflower feeder first thing in the morning and eat their fill. If it was low on seed, they would perch on the railing outside the back door and call until I appeared and topped it up.
I’m not really a bird-geek, but I found it moving to think that no matter the weather, no matter how cold or snowy it was, these little beings were out there making a living and finding food. The concept of a “good day” came down to food and shelter. They symbolized hopefulness and reminded me that nature is not sentimental and that time doesn’t stand still. A Hawk picked off one of the Cardinals last autumn and had a meal in the Maple tree, red feathers fluttering to the ground while I raked leaves.
Every year around the first week of March I would begin listening for the Red-wing Blackbirds. And sure enough, almost to the day they would return. To me, they symbolized the end of winter. I thought of them as the first returning migratory birds, although, in truth, there may be others. Here they were looking for nesting sites in the snowy reeds and rushes along the lakeshore, their distinctive conkeree call a harbinger of warmer weather. Soon the Goldfinches will be changing out of their olive drab winter camouflage into the bright yellow plumage of summer. The Hummingbirds will be back.
In my new home, there are no feeders. So I have to content myself with an occasional Robin wandering on the lawn, and the pairs of Cardinals whistling from the treetops. I miss my birds.
Hope is the Robin that sings before dawn.