March 2, 2009

Our backyard, Williamsburg, Brooklyn:

During the night, a late-winter snowstorm covered the backyard with about five powdery inches of snow. It must have been windy, since there is drift on the window screens, the roof of the window feeder and the suet cage. We were awoken by the calamitous but pointless attacks by our cat, Trout on the doves at the window feeder: a muscular leap which shakes the bed, followed by a dull thud as she hits the glass. It means there must really be nothing to eat, since the doves usually do not visit until later in the day.

As I re-fill the feeder, I notice a flock of about seven starlings huddled together on a chimney, which must be giving off warm smoke. I have never seen birds stay warm like that, in such a deliberate way. Later, I saw a lone pigeon (or maybe it was a dove, I didn't check) doing the same thing.

The juncoes are getting bolder about visiting the window feeder. This afternoon, a couple of males took turns eating the seed that had spilled under the feeder; one perched on the telephone wire, keeping watch, while the other ate, sounding a high, almost electronic, chirp at signs of danger. Or to remind the eater of the watcher's turn at the feeder.