When Pigs Fly

I love birds.  I grew up with parakeets and even had a lovebird named Spooner.  I love painting birds and watching birds.  And I love feeding birds.

I have a feeder that hangs outside my studio window.  Here I am working away and a whole other world of bird hierarchy, chirps and flapping goes on outside.  It's quite wonderful really until 'IT' happens.

When the feeder empties things get ugly.  The peeps take on a tone of " HEY lady....get out here!"  They stare at me through the glass.  They gather like some bizarre feathered gang on the spruce branches.  Occasionally one will thump the glass.  A  miscalculation of flight?  I don't think so!

Now understand these are flying pigs I am talking about.  They don't seem to be suffering from any leanness brought on from the long winter.  I have red polls that I think could take out a raven!  And look here BIRDS, your food costs money!  Not to mention the knee deep snow I need to tromp through to get to the feeder!

Yes, they always win.  The feeder will be restocked and a chickadee will flit to the feeder all adorable with a sweet little cock of it's black and white head and I am cooing my love all over again.

Bird feeding season is brief here in Alaska.  In one minute a bird feeder becomes a bear feeder.  In just a few weeks the feeders will be tucked away for the summer. No one wants a bear to see you as an outdoor café.  Can you imagine?  I can barely hold my own with a nuthatch!