The Great Bird Count

Being kind of retired, sort of, occasionally, I, like many before me, decided to do some things I always wanted to do but never got around to. So far that list includes gardening, bird watching, and never doing housework again. Well, I do do laundry. That’s a gotta-do. Back to the hobbies. It’s not gardening time at the moment, although I am glad that stores are tucking away the Christmas stuff and restocking their garden shelves. And I sure do like to leaf through all the gardening catalogs I’ve signed up for. But I must pace myself. Can’t plant when every morning is frosty.

So, I’m trying to get into the bird watching a bit more. It’s that time of year when the birds hope you will put out a buffet for them. The first thing I discovered about bird watching, when I started peering into birds’ hidden lives last spring was, oh my gosh, it’s a bird soap opera out there in my backyard. There is fussing and feuding aplenty, but now that’s its winter, all my backyard birds want to do is eat. I sort of feel the same way, but we won’t go into that right now (or ever). A few weeks back I got email from the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation that the Great Backyard Bird Count was in the works. Oh yay. I can do that now, I thought. What fun!

Uh, well maybe not. First thing you gotta do is keep those bird feeders full. I had let mine get a bit empty over the holidays (too much to do) so I rushed to refill the buffet. And my bird neighbors gradually returned. Second thing I figured out was you cannot count birds if they see you coming. They fly away in all directions when they spot you hiding behind a kitchen curtain trying to count them. Third thing is some birds apparently don’t want to be counted. Take the tufted titmouse for example. These cute little fellers fly in, grab a seed or two, and don’t waste time trying to eat at the feeder. They much refer to eat seed in a more protected area like inside a bush. So they fly in, fly out, fly in, fly out. How you gonna count that? I estimated. The wildlife people said that was ok. Then there’s the white-crowned sparrow. I did not know there are a bazillion types of sparrows until I got a bird ID book and consulted the bird identifications on our wildlife conservation website. (I visit often. Great place to learn things.) Until then I could not figure out what that bird was with the black and white striped head. It’s a white-crowned sparrow. And when they fly in to partake of the buffet, they pretty much rule the roost when it comes to who gets to sit at the feeder to feed their face. But watch out for those European starlings. When they show up, they take over everything, and I had to count my poor little cardinals eating on the ground because the starlings had taken over the feeders, in mass. And they empty the feeders in a matter of minutes. I carefully recorded my sightings for the wildlife people, and could barely wait to get back to my computer to send off the bird count. Oops. Here came an email from the wildlife folks. Seems there was a problem with the computers, and many bird counts were not showing up. Would I please try again?

I found that ironic. Out there is my backyard a whole other reality is taking place. Sometimes we are so wrapped up in our own lives that we forget there are, not one but many, other worlds out there, inhabited by other beings. We see birds chasing each other for various reasons for food, shelter, and happiness with a spouse and raising a family. Not so different from ourselves. But dag-nab-it, those who inhabit our backyards don’t have to fuss with computers that don’t deliver as promised. But, computers aside, now I’m just happy that I can tell a titmouse from a starling. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks?