Observations - March 22nd

Today the yard resembles the banner at the top, with snow melting off the top of the grass. The snow came in as part of a storm front earlier in the week, dumping about three to four inches and causing chaos in various parts of the state and county. My version of snow-caused inconvenience consisted of a few fishtail-ly wobbles on the drive in, having to cancel an event and call all the participants, and feeling sorry for the robins.

The snowfall clearly drew a line between the birds that don't mind snow, the birds that can cope, and the birds that hate it. The chickadees, woodpeckers, cardinals, sparrows, juncoes and wrens that had stayed through the winter didn't seem bothered at all; if anything, they seemed pleased that their springtime competitors for the feeder were feeling discomfitted.

The starlings didn't particularly like the snow -- they showed a strong reluctance to step in it -- but they managed okay. Humorously, while the other birds tended to flitter and flap to keep a certain space between themselves and their fellows while sitting on rail, branch or feeder, the starlings clumped into a moving pecking huddle, clearly happy to be jostling and touching each other. The dove didn't much like the snow either, as it tried to land on the snow-laden railing several times and each time flew up wittering when its feet touched these miniature drifts. The grackles largely made themselves scarce, though once or twice one would fly down, devour a beakful of seeds, then disappear.

The robins were clearly miserable. They didn't want any part of the snow, so much so that several of them spent some moments huddled on the porch itself, trying to avoid drifts and falling snow alike. When the snowfall stopped, they immediately made their way to the melted areas on the road, where they desultorily walked back and forth and occasionally flew at each other. This morning I found about four of them sitting huddled up on the front stoop, eyeing the melting snow. In the backyard, there were at least ten of them mobbing the crabapple, the one source of food not covered with snow.

Today the squirrel found the ear of corn I'd wired to the porch pillar, and sat there for a long time eating one kernel off of it at a time. When it wasn't doing that, it was scratching itself, though whether from fleas or because it was shedding its winter coat, I'm not sure.

In the garage I have a bin of sprouting lettuce, little baby plants that are just beginning their first true leaves, and which I need to thin this week. Some peas are in a pot trying to germinate. The frost-blasted rosemary is finally starting to show some healthy life. Next on the sprouting agenda are sweet alyssum, sweet peas, and indigo seeds. Should be interesting!

Comments

[Toast]

Ah, squirrels. At Casa de Toast, we finally figured out an effective squirrel deterrent for our bird-feeder. Turns out all we needed was some cooking oil on the shepherd's pole. (We had tried Crisco for a while, but that wound up making the pole more tacky, and thus helping the little thieves.) Anyhow, we are finally at peace with our gray friends again. And few things are more amusing than seeing a squirrel jump on that pole only to slide down it, frustrated and cursing. (OK, I'm projecting the cursing onto them, but still, if they could, you know they would.)

[Rana]

Hee. I'm pretty sure squirrels do cuss - at least that's what it sounds like when they grumble at me from the tree.

In truth, I'm feeding the squirrel corn because it amuses me (though I was as much alarmed as amused to come home and find the entire ear gone yesterday). The feeder hangs from a part of the roof that is protected by a steep overhang, and it's far enough away from posts and trees to preclude jumping. Occasionally the squirrel will sit under it on the porch railing and stare up at it thoughtfully, but until it learns to climb the piece of thin-diameter cord I use to stabilize the feeder in the wind (a trick only one bird has mastered) it can't get at it.

So far. *wink*

[Harrison]

Fly along now, little frog-starling...

How've you been?

[butuki]

Really informative and entertaining to read along with your character observations. I think I'm going to set up a bird feeder in my own garden and get back to getting acquainted with the local characters here. Quite a different array of birds, but so many of the same kinds of personalities:

-robins: dusky thrushes
-grackles: azure-winged magpies
-european starlings: gray starlings
-mourning doves: rufous backed doves
-blue jays: brown-eared bulbuls
-chickadees: great tits
-cardinals: well, I don't know of any bird quite like a cardinal... perhaps the Japanese and Bohemian Waxwings... though they are a lot more gregarious than cardinals
-house sparrows: tree sparrows (eastern hemisphere species)
-juncoes: purple finches
-wrens: winter wrens
-gray squirrels: not many mammals around in Tokyo... in the outskirts there are tiny red squirrels and Japan squirrels. red squirrels are ornery as hell and make grey squirrels seem like monks.

I find it fascinating that no matter where you go in the world there are always counterparts in every level of a place, even in the ocean. Which I guess is one reason I believe that there must be life on other planets. I feel the same rules apply.

[Katie]

The robins here don't like the snow either. It always makes me feel a bit sad watching the robins have to put up with snow.

[Rana]

Harrison! Good to see you!

butuki - I love your list of counterparts. :)

Katie - me too. They look just so utterly pitiful.