They both make a lot of noise and when they stop, you still have no idea what they've just said.
Today at the feeders, in addition to the two blue jays who inspired the thought above, there were 5 or 6 mourning doves, three downey woodpeckers (one male and two females who didn't like sharing - I'm not sure if they were competing for the male or the food, or maybe both), a red-bellied woodpecker, three jumcos, two house sparrows, a chickadee, two nuthatches, eight finches (both male and female), and a pair of cardinals.
I really enjoy watching them - the feeders here in Michigan are much closer to the house than they were in Virigina, and natural food appears to be harder to get, so I'm both seeing a larger number of birds and having a closer look at them. I enjoy hearing the downeys chirp, a sound Sibley describes as "a short, gentle, flat
pik."
The doves cluster round the feeders as well as forage on the ground below, and when done eating are quite content to sit on the deck railing and watch each other and the rest of the parade. The juncos also come to the feeders as well as eat below them, but aren't much for sitting and watching. Whereas the doves seem to be channeling zen practitioners in their absolute stillness, the juncos constantly move their heads or tails, even when their feet stay in one place. They, the doves, and the rest of the ground feeders left an interesting pattern of birdy footprints in the snow beneath the feeders, one which I was frustratingly unsucessful in photographing.
The cardinals, a male and a female, were another interesting pair. The female flew repeatedly between the feeders and the window sill, where she tapped the window with her beak, then returned to the feeder. I don't know if she was seeing her reflection there, or if she was looking through the glass to something interesting inside. Apparently, neither did her mate, who ate at the feeders and watched her watch fly back and forth, reminding me of the patience demonstrated by human partners who think their beloved is slightly daft, but lovable none the less.
Labels: birds, politics