In recent weeks the birdy webs have been afire with wonderment over where all the birdies went. Empty feeders, barren woods, more birds seen in Central Park each day than were seen in all of Central NY, or so it seemed. (Central Park is a great spot for incredible rarities, perhaps because it is so heavily birded.)
It was no different here. I have to bring my feeders in nights due to assorted varmints and vermin, some of which carried whole feeders away last spring.
I put them back out when the first birds of the day request same by sitting on the arbor outside the window over the sink, peeping. Some days the morning request wouldn't come until nearly noon. Some days I didn't put them out at all. Waste of effort.
While a normal walk to the back fields would net at least nineteen or twenty species I would be doing good if I got three.
Then the cold and snow struck.... It is barely dawn here, a thin edge of cold, crescent moon lingers on the eastern horizon. The day is like a big pink cake with silver frosting....the village like a sprawling fruit sprinkled with seeds of orange, white, and blue light. American Tree Sparrows have been jingling outside the window for a while now, and Mourning Doves scattered in front of my feet when I walked the dogs in the early still-dark.
As soon as the yard light goes on, so the boys and I don't trip over coyotes in the dark, the peeping in the shrubbery commences. I guess the birds are back in town....now if only the boys were.
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