I don’t know if it’s normal to worry about the birds that gather in our backyard every day but when you are a worrier (I’ve been told I was born with a worried look on my face) I guess it was probably inevitable that our birds would be the targets of my anxiety eventually.
I am especially concerned about our many mourning doves who, while they do drink from our water sources now and then, hardly ever take a bath. This can’t be good for their coats. They should look for inspiration from the grackles who thrash away so vigorously in the bath that they practically create a wave pool out of it. Their bodies are black and blue and shiny and they look good.
However, they crap big time in the birdbath and I am afraid the other birds who drink from it might become contaminated though none of them seem put off by it so far.
Also very concerning are the sparrows who never, from one month to the next, bathe at all, although that might be a good thing as I fear they are so tiny, they could drown if they were ever to plunge right in.
And while I admire the fact that these little buggers don’t seem to be afraid of any other flying creature – they march right up to birds 10 times their size and kick them in their knees – I can’t help but wonder if they will pay for their boldness someday soon.
I am concerned about some of the robins who seem to me to be too chunky for their own good. One day I saw what looked like two robins taking a bath at the same time and was shocked to discover that all the splashing about was being made by only one red-breasted behemoth. These guys need to get more exercise or cut back on the worms. Their cholesterol levels must be sky high, pun intended.
I love to look at the cardinals and blue jays but I wonder how their colourful wings, bodies and heads don’t easily attract whatever predators they might be trying to stay away from. (We all have our predators. Mine use our doorbell and landline.) They seem almost to be sitting ducks, though we don’t actually have any sitting ducks at the moment. We do have a couple in the front yard every spring when Fred and Ginger show up for a day or two of waddling around.
The cowbirds have been around a lot this summer and the silly brown things walk everywhere. I worry if they keep doing that they will forget how to fly. Also, they are not suitably afraid of other creatures such as squirrels, rabbits and grackles and even humans. I have almost bumped into them from time to time.
And of the grackles, we used to have 20 of them till a month ago when they all disappeared. So, I worried about what might have happened to them till 10 of them reappeared last week, hungry and obnoxious as ever. Where are the other 10, I fretted. And when the 10 we have now returned, they brought a flock of starlings with them. The starlings are a very rambunctious gang and I worry about our grackles getting mixed up with them and the bad effects that might have on their attitudes.
But maybe my bird fears are misplaced. It’s been a long time since I found a dead one anywhere. And they do seem to have their own lifesaving medics. One day, I happened on a big bird of some sort that was sitting on an arm of one of our lawnchairs, obviously badly stunned. Sometimes birds will fly headfirst into our windows which cramps their style. I could have reached out and grabbed this guy but I kept on walking. A few minutes later, a second bird of the same species landed on the first guy’s back and proceeded to use its wings to beat the hell out of it. I thought it was performing a mercy killing. In fact, it was more akin to CPR. After the assaulter flew off, the one in a coma came to life, shook itself a time or two and took off after its physiotherapist, good as new.
In the end, of course, I don’t know what the future holds for the birds or for me, but if I come back as a winged creature someday, I hope I am a bold little sparrow.
Those guys don’t take no shit from nobody.
©2022 Jim Hagarty
