Friday Ramble - For the Birds

Alas, much of the last week has been spent clearing white stuff from around the little blue house in the village. At times, the threshold, cobblestones, driveway, sundeck and steps disappeared from view completely, and getting out and about to do anything at all was quite an exercise.

In winter, I shovel a trail around the garden for Beau, but recent snowfalls have filled it in over and over again. Although his running track has been dredged out several times in recent days, it is three feet deep in snow at the moment, and Himself is up to his houndy ears in white stuff when he goes out. He is not amused.  Clearing his path around the garden is slow going and more akin to tunneling than shoveling.

After waiting out high winds and heavy snowfall in the cedar hedge, village birds are hungry, and first thing in the morning, the garden is filled with clamorous fluttery folk waiting for their breakfast. Before anything else is done, bird feeders are cleaned and refilled, and seed is scattered on the deck for ground noshers. There have been many mornings recently when just getting to the feeders was a chore.

Cardinals, blue jays, nuthatches, various woodpeckers and winter finches (pine siskins, purple finches, redpolls, crossbills) visit from time to time, but sparrows, chickadees, and juncos are always about. How can one not feel affection for the tiny feathered spirits who visit every day and chirrup their thanks when food is put out for them, even in the most inclement weather? I always hope that grosbeaks (evening, pine and rose-breasted) will turn up, but they prefer rural and suburban areas, only turning up at village feeders in the depths of winter when they are desperate.

Winter birds are always welcome visitors. I once wrote here about an icy morning when a sparrow flew into the house, made himself comfortable in the sunlit dining room for a few minutes and sang joyously, then flew back out into the garden when he had warmed up a bit and had something to eat. Sparrows are as numerous here in winter as they are in most urban areas, but it is always a pleasure to spend time with the little passerines when other bird kin have migrated to warmer climes.

Depths is an appropriate word in these circumstances. We are almost drowning in snow, and village plows are fast running out of places to put it.