No U.S. airspace is more crowded right now than that around our bird feeder. Flights are coming in from as close as the Blue Spruces and as far away as the Cottonwoods. A rambunctious flock of Chickadees, Titmouses, Juncos, and a Nuthatch or two are ceaselessly arriving empty beaked then departing with a precious sunflower seed.
Landing in the rain.
The resident pair of Cardinals drop in, each alternating between a turn at dominating the feeder and then on the ground keeping watch. They seem to be less an infatuated young couple than a middle-aged pair, a little wiser and more wary of the world's unexpected events whose outcome is unknown.
A vein of Gold Finches arrives. Taking up perches they raise their wings and beat the air at new arrivals until the would-be perch usurper departs. Momentarily at peace, they can snatch up a seed and gnaw the shell with their beaks until it cracks open.
Undesirables of the rodent and avian world join in. Squirrels hop around below the feeder rummaging through the accumulated layer of cracked shells and detritus for unopened seeds. Morning Doves wander in a meandering circle and peck with seeming little hope of finding anything. A gang of purple finches and anonymous bland sparrows arrive chasing the brighter birds away.
An interesting bit of drama on an otherwise dark and wet late autumn afternoon.
