After 11 days out of town, mooching rooms and meals from relatives, it felt good to be back on the home patch this morning. The feeders were virtually empty so Task One was to refill the array. The air was a brisk, a sharp 23 degrees as I poured seed into the hoppers and shouldered some minor abuse about my dereliction of duties from the chickadee population.
I could tell winter was in the air, or at least in the ground, as I walked around. For the first time this season the earth felt as hard as concrete. Little humps and ridges left behind by the various creatures that eat beneath our feeders did not give way under my shoes.
It’s curious to me how things, like frozen earth, which seem so daunting to humans, are taken in stride by birds that must find their eats regardless of the time, temperature or anything else thrown at them.
Earlier in the week, while in St. Louis, I watched a female Northern Flicker, the ant eater of the avian world, as she inspected what had probably been a chipmunk, vole or maybe a snake, hole. No ants around at this time of year, yet she seemed quite interested in what might be down there. With caution she slowly lowered her head, and kept an eye on the two-inch opening. Finally, when sure nothing was going to have her for breakfast, she began hammering away. She pummeled the hole’s entrance until she eventually unearthed a … what?
Whatever she found, it was tasty enough to carry off into the trees.
2 comments:
Clyde: Love the red...looks like you took a paint brush to its head. Su
If you can't find anything on the ground around you...I guess you might as well explore a hole :)
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