Backyard Beauty
I’ve had to put a moratorium on bird feeding. It breaks my heart to look out into the backyard and see empty feeders where there once was a nonstop flurry of activity. Greedy, plump Mourning Doves would eventually run everyone off. It was comical watching them squeeze, sometimes three deep, into the feeders, testing the limits of cedar wood and wire mesh, perfecting their sinful gluttony—only vacating if the dog came charging. Raccoons, chipmunks, rats and mice had taken over the yard, foraging for the crumbs those fat lovable bastards would spill over the sides. The dog became a basket case. I had to shut it down. The upside to quiet bird feeders is that I have had a chance to focus my attention on other visitors to my backyard: butterflies, frogs, dragonflies, skinks, anoles and beautiful bright green Katydids. And that rude Mockingbird who claimed his territory earlier this Spring—I’ve watched in awe as he and his mate have raised their fledgling, teaching it how to...