On this clear, cold morning following our first significant snowfall of the winter, I am paying close attention to our backyard sunflower feeder. After all, the snow cover and overnight chill should send plenty of our local residents to the feeder and, perhaps, less common visitors as well. So far, the feeding groups have included the usual mix of characters: chickadees, titmice, cardinals, white-breasted nuthatches, house finches, downy woodpeckers, juncos and white-throated sparrows; but I'll keep checking throughout the day.
Non-birders usually hang a feeder because they feel sorry for their avian neighbors, trying to survive in the cold and snow; to them, the little brown, red or gray birds are all the same. Novice birders, on the other hand, begin to appreciate the wide variety of species that inhabit our residential areas and realize that feeders offer an effective way to attract them and to observe them at close range. Veterans birders, of course, know that the birds would do just fine without our charity but we both enjoy their visits and hold out hope that rare winter species will be attracted by their activity.
As a longtime birder and bird feeding suburbanite, I still have mixed feelings about the use of artificial feeders and favor the use of native plant landscaping to attract wildlife. After all, we admonish the general public not to feed the raccoons or deer or bears. While birds do not pose the potential nuisance or danger that mammals might bring, are we not disrupting nature's cycle by this activity? We know that feeders attract songbird predators (cats, accipiters) as well, concentrating their prey and distracting the hapless songbirds with our convenient handouts; are we not tipping the balance in the hunter's favor? Perhaps this is all philosophical hogwash. For now, I'll keep filling the feeder and watching for exotic visitors. And I'll keep wondering whether I can abide my unnatural behavior.
