The Birds and the Bees

I'm here at my window this morning, looking at my ever-more-shaggy back yard (Eddie comes tomorrow) and watching a whole host of birds, as they go about their business. It's fascinating! I can see them, but they can't see me, so their behavior is completely natural.

The heat we're enduring right now is taking a toll on the birds, and for the most part, they look pretty tacky. I find feathers in the yard all the time, big old tail feathers stuck into the grass like spears. I can only conclude that they fall out while the bird is in flight, and the heavy end hits the ground first, causing that peculiar, spear-like position.

It's easy to tell who lost them, because many of the birds are almost tail-less. These are mostly grackles - they seem to be molting worse than the other birds. One particular big male, who most likely was resplendent with a big old boat-tail until recently, is now looking pretty funny, but he doesn't seem to know it. He's still strutting about, showing off for the ladies, seemingly unaware that he only has one tail feather, and it's bent. You can almost hear the little hens laughing as he prances around, but he doesn't seem to notice.

The scraggly grackles are often joined by noisy troops of starlings. Not the most desirable of birds, but they do peck and scratch around in the grass, and presumably are eating pests. I'm not sure if they eat seeds or bugs, but either way, it's okay with me. The only seeds in the lawn would be weed seeds, since my St. Augustine spreads by runners. Its seeding habits are negligible. The starlings are medium-sized, slightly speckled black birds with bob tails. If they're missing their tail feathers in this molting season, it would be hard to tell.

Naturally, there are the ubiquitous sparrows. Always sparrows. Tiny, busy, seemingly nondescript little sparrows. At first glance, they don't seem to be all that noteworthy, but if you look closer, they're really quite pretty. The little hens are a discreet dun color, with black markings on their wings. The males have a pretty little black chin and chest decoration, which looks quite sharp and dapper against their gray-brown chest. They're very prolific, and raise a continuous parade of babies out there. The antics of those babies as they're learning to fly are very entertaining. That will be a whole blog one of these days, most likely.

There are robins out back this morning, and you can see some signs of molting on them, but nothing like the grackles. With the robins, it's mostly little raggedy patches on their otherwise brilliant red breasts. They spend a great deal of time scratching and poking around in the grass, and now and then I see one pulling a desperately-protesting worm out of the ground. There are earthworms everywhere out there, thanks to the organic practices Joe has encouraged me to adopt. I'm a believer now - it's the only way to go. No chemicals back there!

Now, about the bees -- a neighbor a few houses down has some beehives, and his bees often come to my birdbaths for a drink. They're welcome here. They don't just gather at the birdbath for a drink of water, but they also visit the flowers. Since most of the flowers I plant back there are hybrid annuals, cross-pollination is not required, but there are some that are not hybrids and they need the assistance of the bees. There are coneflowers, black-eyed susans, and daisies, for starters. These all re-seed, (oh boy, do they re-seed!) and for them, cross-pollination is very important. Even snapdragons and some petunias will return from seed next year if conditions are right, though most of the time they're treated as annuals.

The bees are a bit feisty, and will rise up and circle threateningly when I approach, but have never actually stung me. However, their presence at the birdbath seems to really upset the birds, who seem to have a prejudice against them. I've never seen a bee bother a bird, but the birds don't like them. They don't try to eat them, they just gather in a little group and have heated discussions about them! It's so funny to see a small cadre of bees, sipping water from one side of the big old bird bath, while five or six birds are crowding each other on the other side, watching the bees intently, and chattering to each other. This is when I wish I could speak bird!

I guess there is room for everyone, and a purpose for everyone - even tacky birds with broken tail feathers and pugnacious bees. If they all do their job, stay in their own territory, pursue their own interests, and don't try to boss their neighbors, it all works well. Perhaps there's a lesson for us all, in the birds and the bees.