Photo a Day: My Happy Place

Anyone who reads my blog or my Facebook page with any kind of regularity is aware that I moved to a new house this past summer. We're in a much more rural location, and since our property includes a large section of woods, we get loads of wildlife and especially birds visiting our yard. 

There are many features about our new house that I LOVE, but one of my most favorite is that there are huge windows everywhere, so the rooms are beautifully sunlit. And my favorite windows are a trio of arched windows in the family room that look out past my birdfeeders and into the woods in the back yard. I have spent hundreds, perhaps thousands of hours in that room watching the birds (and the deer, and the opossums, and the groundhogs, and the chipmunks, and the squirrels). I fold laundry there, I cut out patterns there, I work on my laptop there, I plan den meetings and write Sunday School lessons there, I listen to music there, I enjoy cocktails with my husband there. It is truly My Happy Place. 

Much like spending time with my cats, spending time with "my" birds brings both laughter and serenity. The blue jays' silly antics, the squabbling of the juncos, and the robins' territorial displays all make me laugh, and the cooing mourning doves, the lovely markings of the flicker, the shyness of the woodpeckers, and the sweetness of the fledglings all bring me peace.  

My Happy Place.

What I Have Learned About Birds

In the past month in my new home, I have probably done more bird-watching than I had in the prior 50 years combined. I have a large arched picture window outside my family room, with three feeders on hooks just outside the window: a hummingbird feeder, a suet feeder, and a seed feeder. I have spent countless hours watching the birds, trying to identify the less familiar ones, and even working on matching the songs and birdcalls I hear in the trees to the actual birds landing on the fence and the feeder. It has been quite an education. Here is what I've learned about the birds that have visited:

1. Titmice like to holler. They hardly ever land at the feeder without screeching their presence. They are not stealthy birds.
2. Ditto for bluejays. They crash-land on the hook then yell for a while before they think about eating.
3. Baby bluejays have super whiny voices.
4. Titmice travel in packs. It's incredibly rare to have a single titmouse visit the feeder without another arriving either with it or immediately afterwards, and often 3 or more.
5. Finches and titmice are good sharers. They are happy to eat at the feeder with other birds there, of the same or different species.
6. Woodpeckers are shy, and will wait until all the other birds are gone before coming to the feeder. They also usually sit on either the hook or the feeder for several minutes, looking nervous, until they get up the courage to eat. This occasionally includes sliding down the pole, ever-so-slowly, pretending they meant to do that.
7. Robins HATE bluejays. Like, HAAAAAAAAATE them. The robin will chase the bluejays out of the yard if they dare to approach the feeder while the robin (which, by the way, does not eat from any of the feeders) is in the yard. Even when it's one robin to three bluejays.
8. Bluejays are giant cowards.
9. Hummingbirds are tiny little bullies. They will take on any other bird that's nearby, from another hummingbird to multiple bluejays. They are not good sharers.
10. It's difficult to distinguish individual birds of most species; however, occasionally one individual will exhibit a distinctive behavior. Although some hummingbirds eat while hovering and some land on the rail and stand while they eat, we have one male who sits on top of the hook for a few minutes before and/or after he eats, as if establishing his sovereignty. He will not only chase away other birds, he will follow other hummingbirds around the yard, hollering at them in his squeaky little hummingbird voice. I have dubbed him "Cap," which is short for Captain Hook. It suits him.
11. Hummingbirds SQUEAK?!?? Yes, they do. Usually while flying, and nearly always when chasing another hummingbird.
12. Carolina wrens like to hang around near the feeder and sing, but rarely come to eat.
13. Goldfinches will sit at the feeder for 5-10 minutes at a time while they eat, never leaving their perch.
14. Titmice grab a single seed, fly to the top of the hook, hold the seed with their feet, peck it open and eat it, then FLING the seed hulls into the air before returning for another seed. They will do this for several minutes at a time.
15. Cardinals only graze on the ground, never on the feeder. They rely on the messy birds to knock seed onto the ground for them. Fortunately, there are plenty of messy birds.
16. Bluejays attempt to eat from the suet feeder, but they are so large and clumsy that they set the feeder to swinging and have to wait for the movement to stop so they can eat. After several attempts, they usually give up and eat the bits that have fallen into the rhododendron bush below, which provides much firmer footing (as well as some degree of concealment from the attack robin).
17. Hummingbirds only eat from the hummingbird feeder.
18. Bluejays only eat from the suet feeder.
19. Titmice prefer the seed, but will also eat the suet.
20. Woodpeckers prefer the suet, but will also eat the seed.
21. Hummingbirds like to hover in front of the window and peer inside, either before or after they eat. If you are outside, they will occasionally do the same to your face.
22. Everybody hides when the shadow of the turkey vulture passes overhead.
23. Chickadees are heard much more often than they are seen. Ditto for cardinals.
24. Hummingbirds can be very small. Dragonflies can be very large. They are easily confused, until they move. Hummingbirds occasionally drive away dragonflies. Not sure if they are also confused and think the dragonfly is another hummingbird, or maybe they're just jerks. I'm leaning toward the latter.
25. Much like children, birds often hang around and pose adorably right until you get your camera handy, at which point they either leave or present you with their least flattering side.

Oh - and one more thing to know about birds: Watching them is good for the soul.

On the First Day of Christmas

Since Herb and I perform in the Reagle Music Theatre’s annual production of “It’s ChristmasTime” every year, which runs the first two weekends of December and which generally involves us hosting a cast party, we always put up our Christmas decorations on the weekend after Thanksgiving. And by “Christmas decorations”, I don’t mean just the Christmas tree. We transform the entire house into a Christmas wonderland, inside and out. The top of the piano hosts an entire Christmas village, complete with a carousel, children throwing snowballs, a swan pond, a trolley, a theater, and a cobblestoned footbridge. The mantelpiece is filled with greens and berries and glitter-adorned candles, with an array of nutcrackers standing at attention. We drape swags of greenery over the entryway, across the living room ceiling, over the banisters, and around the mirror in the front hallway. The sideboard is cleared of its usual array of wineglasses and candlesticks to make room for the manger and the Magi. The chandelier gets bedecked with festive red bows. White icicle lights twinkle from the eaves. Wreaths adorn every door. And of course, the stockings are hung by the chimney with care.

But the crowning glory is always the Christmas tree. We are among the diehards who refuse to give in to an artificial tree. The feel, the scent, the imperfections and variations from year to year just can’t be imitated by an artificial tree. So we made our annual trek to Seasons Four in Lexington to get the complete tree-picking experience. We began by grabbing an unused flatbed cart in the parking lot, plopping Ryan onto it, and then making our way through rows and rows of fragrant green trees until we reached the section with the hardy Fraser firs. I love the rich smell of the balsams and the dusty color of the blue spruces, but when you put your tree up as early as we do, nothing beats the longevity of a Fraser fir. So while Ryan attempted to eat the red berries that were rolling across the flatbed, Herb pulled out tree after tree and we evaluated each one for symmetry, fullness, height, freshness, and overall personality. We soon found a lovely tree that had a beautiful shape and was full without being too big around for our room, and I evicted Ryan from his throne on the flatbed so Herb could have the tree trimmed and wrapped for the trip home. While he was doing that, Ryan and I went to visit the alpacas and the baby goats at the back of the tree lot. Ryan was more interested in the other children who were feeding the animals than he was in the animals themselves, but once he was standing nose to nose with a little grey goat who licked his fingers hoping for a treat, he got a little more interested.

It was getting a bit chilly by then, so we went inside to warm up for a few minutes and to check out all the theme trees inside. Ryan’s eyes were like saucers as he contemplated tree after tree full of twinkling white lights and glittering ornaments. We even found a Sesame Street-themed tree featuring Bert, Ernie, Cookie Monster, Oscar, Big Bird, and of course, his buddy Elmo. But leave it to Ryan, even as we were checking out the Sesame Street tree, he looked over my shoulder and announced, “K! K! K!” (which means “clock”, his latest obsession). I told him that no, there weren’t any clocks in here, but then I peered into the corner where he was pointing and wouldn’t you know, there was a clock with a 6-foot wide face. So we stood in front of that clock for a while as his face lit up with the wonder that is usually reserved for seeing the full stockings on Christmas morning, or sitting on Santa’s lap.

Eventually we tore him away from the clock and headed back home to unload the tree. We weren’t sure how he’d react to all the chaos and temptation of decorating the tree, so we waited until he was in bed to put up the tree and start decorating it. I’ll admit it: decorating the tree is my very favorite part of Christmas. And I especially love our tree, because we created a very special tree all our own just before we were married. I was living in an apartment with a cat who would have decimated a Christmas tree, so we decorated his house together. I don’t remember exactly what inspired us, but we decided to do a bird-themed tree, using glass icicles and baubles, snowflakes, pine cones, and every kind of bird ornament we could find. We cover the tree with hundreds and hundreds of tiny white lights and don’t use any tinsel or garlands (I’m a tinsel girl who hates garlands and Herb’s a bead/garland guy who hates tinsel – it was a very convenient compromise). We have dozens of feathered cardinal ornaments that add splashes of red everywhere, with a few bright blue jays, a goldfinch or two, a couple of robins, and even a jeweled hummingbird adding a dash of color here and there. The result, in my opinion, is breathtaking and glorious:

The crystal snowflakes, baubles, and icicles move gently with the warm air currents, catching the light and adding a gentle, ever-changing glimmer to the tree.

The cardinals nestling cozily into the crook of a limb, the chickadees perched pertly on the tips of branches, the blue jays seeming to cock their heads and fix their dark eyes on the observer, the majestic pheasant, the graceful dove, the proud peacock, the goldfinch flashing its bright gold feathers, the owls peeking wisely and watchfully from their perches, all the birds bring such a sweet, natural, peaceful beauty to the tree.

And so our bird tree is once again the centerpiece of our Christmas décor. It is festive, elegant, simple, and beautiful. And I hope it still will be when we have to put the playpen around it to protect it from a curious one-year-old who is just a bit too fascinated by it for his own good.