Just outside our family room window is a large, deciduous magnolia, a single feeder filled with black sunflower seed and a hanging block of suet. Yesterday afternoon, the usual feeding group stopped by, composed of chickadees, titmice, white-breasted nuthatches and house finches. They were soon joined by a flicker, a small flock of pine siskins, a few cardinals and a curious group of starlings. Mourning doves, white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos gathered beneath the feeder, searching for fallen seen.
While I watched this motley group, a quick movement from the periphery caught my eye and a small bird dangled from a terminal branch of the magnolia. Within a few seconds, this red-breasted nuthatch darted to the feeder, grabbed a seed and flew off. Unlike the polite chickadees, which patiently defer to larger birds at the feeder, the aggressive red-breast flew right in with each return, directing his sharp bill at any patron that challenged his appearance; only an occasional stop at the suet block disrupted his recurrent visits. Though most of the birds moved on over the next twenty minutes, this tiny nuthatch continued his forays for an hour or more, storing his larder in tree bark, the cracks of our deck and even beneath the gravel of the backyard walkway.
Red-breasted nuthatches summer and breed in the coniferous forests of Canada and the U.S. mountains. Wintering throughout the country, their numbers vary widely from year to year, likely related to weather conditions and regional food supplies. Though they may join the roaming flocks of chickadees, titmice and finches, this small but hardy bird is often found alone, able to fend for himself in our fickle, Midwestern winter.
