As much as I enjoyed them, the joys of being home again are equally nourishing to my soul. My Big Year was like being served a large number of dishes at a great tapas restaurant — delicious but overwhelming. The individual delicacies blurred together in memory as well as the stomach. Day-to-day birding is more like sitting down to comfort food. Even though the variety is limited, the meal is worth savoring, and every now and then, a bite is so perfect I can’t help but blurt out a satisfied Mmmm.
My latest treat came as I started writing this: A Pileated Woodpecker flew onto a small hanging feeder that ordinarily attracts chickadees and nuthatches. A foot-long piece of birch with holes drilled for peanut butter, it was hardly designed for such a bruiser. The feeder twirled merrily as the enormous woodpecker, his red crest and mustache gleaming in the morning sun, pigged out for a delicious moment that I’ll savor forever.
A few afternoons before, while visiting a family friend, I noticed a Yellow-rumped Warbler on the deck (above). It repeatedly approached the sliding glass door, attracted to cluster flies buzzing about inside. I smacked down a dozen or so and placed them in a flower box on the deck. Some of the flies were still alive, buzzing or walking. When one flew off, the warbler darted after it and snapped it up in midair. Then, noticing the rest, it alighted in the box for a feast. It quickly connected my stepping outside with the food, flying to the box the moment I set out a handful. It downed fly after fly, fuel that I hoped would power its migration the coming night. I took dozens of photos of it eating and, after it exhausted each delivery, staring at me through the glass, waiting impatiently for the next.
Last winter I noticed a chickadee missing the three front toes of one foot. At first, it was easy to pick out, its head and face messy where it couldn’t preen or scratch. “Little Stumpy” readily came to my hand for mealworms, allowing me to keep track of it. Through the seasons, I watched it grow more competent at using the deformed foot. By late summer and fall, it was hard to distinguish from other chickadees until the moment it alighted on my hand. Spotting it each morning is as richly sustaining as adding a new species during my Big Year.
Dining on exotic delicacies in far-flung places is one of the joys of travel, but the best soul food is served much closer to home.
This article from Laura Erickson’s column “Attracting Birds” appeared in the January/February 2015 issue of BirdWatching magazine. Subscribe
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