Feeding The Planet, Or At Least An Acre

The title of my last article was The Canary In The Mine, and it had to do with taxes and downtown development.  There’s a reason why I put a bird in the title.  Birds are my latest obsession.

I just mounted my third backyard bird feeder, one designed exclusively for upside down-feeding goldfinches.  No takers yet but I’m not worried.  It took two weeks for birds to find the first one I hung.  That was all-purpose and there are now many customers; chickadees, nuthatches and a whole family of cardinals that are so cute, I could watch them all day instead of vacuuming and doing dishes and laundry which is exactly what I’ve chosen to do.

I had a bunch of feeders at my old house in Bradford Hills.  A pergola just outside the family room window was perfect for hanging and filling feeders.  When I moved to the new place in Berkeley Park, I had my hands full with four growing children and a job, but what I did not have was a pergola.  I had giant oak trees with no low branches.  I never devoted any thought to figuring out how to mount the bird feeders.   I devoted all my energy to feeding my family and my cats instead.

Fast forward to 2009.  My TV news job is gone, three of the four children are out of the house and need cash instead of cooking.  The last cat is elderly and lives on a shelf in the garage because he’s afraid of the dogs in the house and I finally have time to figure out it only takes a wrought iron plant hanger screwed into the tree to get the bird feeders up and running again.

The system is humming along.  The elderly cat is no longer a threat to the birds after many years of thoughtful gifts of dead mice, moles, chipmunks and birds delivered to the garage floor.  It would break my heart to lure these lovely and fragile creatures to my backyard for a last meal, where a black panther-like feline lie in wait, another reason why I didn’t rush the bird feeders here.

Bird food sits at the back door

The dogs now keep the cat in check, I keep the dogs in check, and it’s all clear for the birds who are better than TV, except for Mad Men.  Nothing is better than that.

All this food creates some storage issues.  I buy everything in bulk and storing it is well, bulky.  The old cat has lost his internal regulator and will walk into the giant bag of cat food and eat himself round.  Although I’m a stickler for storing things close to where they are used, I had to remove the cat food from the garage to save him from blowing himself up, and instead stick the food in the kitchen broom and coat closet.   It didn’t take long for the cat to walk into the bag of dog food, so I had to move that too,  into the little hallway near the cellar stairs.

Some bird food gets stored in the garage as the cat has shown no interest in that.  Yet.  The rest of it is just inside the door because its too big for the little space left in the closet.  The fresh produce which I pick up at various farm stands; Borodino Market on Rose Hill Road for tomatoes, squash, beans and sunflowers, Delaney’s on Kasson Road for silver corn, all sits on my crowded counter top.  At this time of year I eat fresh produce until I don’t like it anymore, which occurs around the first frost when it’s no longer available anyway.

Cat food crowds the kitchen closet

This unique food storage system assures my home will never be featured for a house tour.  Who would pay good money to see this?

It’s funny how every creature I feed knows just where to go when it’s hungry.  Christian goes directly to the refrigerator and the pantry shelf where we keep the cereal.  Otto the dachshund makes a racket until I get up and follow him to the back hall where he knows I keep the dog food.  I pour it into the dish.  After all that effort, poor Otto has to wait until Eika the german shepherd gets up from her nap and eats most of it first.

40 pounds of dog food are out of view near the cellar door

The cat starts howling from the garage.  I grab a fistful of cat food from the kitchen closet and drop it in the cat bed.  Poor guy doesn’t even have enough room on the shelf where he lives above where the dogs can get him to have a bowl.  Besides, the ravenous thing probably finds some comfort in falling asleep with the scent of his meal beneath him.

Now the birds chirp out my window.  My obsession guarantees the feeders are full and ready.  It’s the plump and colorless cardinal babies demanding food from their dad that tells me it’s feeding time out there.  They hang out on the ground beneath the feeder while their brilliantly colored father with the funny face brings sunflower seed directly into their mouths.   For some reason it escaped me the last bird feeding phase of my life sixteen years ago that cardinals get fed by daddy.

Fresh produce for mommy who will turn into a tomato any day now

All of this feeding carries responsibility.  Everyone is counting on me.   Since my children don’t need me for much beyond being a walking ATM machine, the animals remind me my existence on the planet is vital.   And in this heat, I have to clean and fill the bird bath twice per day.  If I don’t do it, all those birds will go thirsty and dirty and die, I’m just sure of it.  I must do this.

Sometimes I feel like I’m feeding the world.   My people, my dogs, my cat, my birds and I didn’t even mention the deer population of Syracuse that survives by eating my flowers and the fox that sometimes grabs hold of the trash in the garage and rips it apart all over the grass thanks very much.   What better purpose to spend the day?  A whole life?

Oh, and I’m even feeding the dust mites that have no problem finding sustenance all over the house while I turn my attention outdoors.

Tagged as: backyard birding, birds, cats, dogs, feed, pets