Shortly after our move to the farm, I added a pretty copper bird feeder to the backyard. That first winter, spring and summer – we saw tons of birds move through the farm. Robins, Cardinals, Blue Jays – at least that’s what I called them. They were the proper colors, but I’m no professional bird watcher.
The previous owners added tiny wooden birdhouses to all of the trees in the backyard. I still love when the leaves drop through the fall. All of the birdhouses come peeking out through the bare branches. It seemed only right that we would continue to care for the birds with the same love they’d been shown for so long.
The feeder was acquired on a random trip to Earl Mae in which I got way too excited about the birds. It immediately went up on the light pole at the center of the backyard and the birds knew exactly what to do. They’ve cleaned it out within a couple of days of filling it ever since.
With the cold temps moving through our area, I’ve noticed a lot of birds still hanging about or passing through the farm. Even if we’re just a temporary stop on the way to somewhere warmer, I love that the birds visit.
My Great Grandma had a Hummingbird feeder just outside a bright and sunny window in her house. Every Sunday, our family would gather at her house after our trip to church. I remember looking at that feeder glistening in the sunshine and hoping so hard that a bird would come eat out of it. I honestly don’t remember the excitement of seeing it happen – but I have to assume that it did. Regardless, it’s spurred a weird obsession with feeding birds that I know nothing about.
After freshening the feeder, I sit in the living room with the kids and stare out the giant new windows we’ve finally installed. One by one, the birds swoop down from the sky and pick at the seeds in the feeder and tossed across the snow. Occasionally, an excited chicken will sprint across the yard to get in on the action. All-the-while, Isai and I are screaming “Bird! Bird!” And laughing while we watch.
I like to think that, when snow hits the ground, the birds are so relieved to find a warm and cozy spot in the treetop houses with an unbeatable continental breakfast perched on the feeder. If we’re the Holiday Inn Express for feathery travelers, I think we’re doing it right.