Intersecting Bird Lives and a Store Closing

I've been spending an increasing amount of time in my small backyard, where my shade loving plants grow, and where birds and other wildlife visit.

For much of this enjoyment, I can thank a store in the community which announced recently that it will be closing the end of August.

We went there today, and a co-owner told us that the store had been his second career.  Ironically, it also took him and his wife away from their first love, birding.  They tried to sell the store for months (it's part of a franchise) but were unsuccessful.  Fall migration is not that far away, and he didn't want to miss it still again because of his business.  He still hopes someone will buy it.

This business has nourished so many people, especially when the pandemic kept many of us home and started a love of watching birds in us and others.  The staff of the store were happy to teach, and were quick with advice.  We learned so much from them.

We will miss the store.  The nearest stores of this franchise are about an hour away, and I'm not sure we will make the drive (especially in winter) to shop there.  But one never knows.

We've seen so much this year, as we continue to learn and understand what the birds are doing around us. We've been watching for over a year now, and no two days were alike.

During last winter, we marveled at our native birds, who dealt just fine with snow on the ground, and faced ice cold with only feathers to protect them.  They braved weather that would have had me bundled up in the entire inventory of a sporting goods store.

Male (left) and female goldfinch, July 2022

We watched in late spring as male goldfinches molted from winter drab greenish brown into bright yellow.

As spring migration progressed, we heard new bird songs and calls.  The many non native birds who summer here started to return.  Many, like the warblers, we never get to see, but we hear them.

The male Northern cardinal whose territory we live in one again favored his female with exchanges of seeds at the feeder and weeks later we saw two of their children for the first time.  Probably Mr. Cardinal was swearing undying love with those seed gifts. But we know he will forget all about love come next winter when, if his mate dares to feed at the feeder when he he around, he will kick her (almost literally) off, leaving her to fend for herself on the snowy ground.

And then there were the juvenile birds.  Last year, we never noticed them as we were too busy learning about the adults.  But now the parents, comfortable at our feeders, are introducing their offspring.

We saw house finches feeding their young a month or so ago.  These juveniles left the nest but continued to need a parent's help to feed themselves.  The males took on this task as the young flutter in their presence as the female prepared another nesting.  The show is over now.  We missed it.

Cardinals are nervous feeders at the feeder, and even nervous on our fence, constantly alert.  The finches just dig in at the feeder.  

 

Female Hairy Woodpecker

Our woodpeckers don't mind my presence.

One day, my photos won't be so tiny

A downy woodpecker drills into a seed cake right above the black cone (it's a baffle, which hopefully will block squirrels and chipmunks) as I blog this.

Speaking of chipmunks...

The chickadees, having absented themselves for child rearing duties, have shown up again, announcing their presence with a confident "chick-a-dee dee dee" call.

In the distance, I hear fish crows, a species of bird that has appeared here only in recent years, thanks to climate change. 

Much of this enjoyment came from the education the staff of this store gave us, as we bought feeders, seeds, seed cakes, and bark butter from them. That includes most all of what you see in these pictures.

We understand why they are closing, but it's still going to be a sad day when they lock the doors for the last time.