My dad is a lover of nature, which I share but his current obsession is birds. Much to my mother's irritation. My dad knows all the types of locals birds and what they like to munch on and how best to put their birdhouses, feeding platforms, umbrellas in their little drinks and so on.
Sitting on their porch I listened to the call of the many winged creatures and made a decision (this is where you insert ominous music). I wanted more birds in my yard. The seemed so fun and happy and full of life.
"Dad, what kind of seed should I get to feed the birds." I asked
"It depends on what kind of bird you want to attract." said the expert
"The kind with feathers." I snickered
"For amateurs like you it would be best to get X brand" Dad said
Our conversation continued but it was boring so I won't go into detail. Except to say I went to the feed store and looked for brand X and it was freaking EXPENSIVE. I could not see paying that much for seeds to throw on the ground and hope a bird would come by and eat it before the rain washed it away. So I called up the ole' father figure.
"Hey Dad, Can I just get G brand seeds since their the cheapest?"
I had already paid for G brand but I wanted to make sure.
"NO. Do NOT get the cheapest feed. You don't want the wrong kind of birds knowing where you live." he said
"UM OK, whatever , ok Dad I'll get the X brand. Bye" I said
The thought occured to me Dad might be going crazy. Granted the seeds didn't look as pretty and clean as the other brand but come on these birds where eating them off the DIRT.
The first day went great. I threw some seeds out and sat back and watched a few brightly colored species come in and daintily scratch and eat the food I had lovingly provided.
The next day I tossed some more out and was amazed at the number that flew in. It was freaky. As if they had called their buddies up and told them where the food was. After all the seed was gone they did something strange. They didn't fly away. The birds just sat there, looking around. Some where looking at me. It creeped me out so I went inside.
As usual I was busy the next day and didn't through any seed out. I left to go to the store and it was eerily quiet outside. Walking to my car I noticed hundreds of birds sitting around. In the trees. On the porch. On the roof of my car. Running back inside the house I collapsed in a seat and tried to figure out what to do.
Hearing a tapping on the back door I peeked out the window and saw something I will never forget. A steel gray dove sat on my doorstep. He had no feathers on his wings and I could see him flexing his tiny wing muscles, making the naked bird lady tattooed on his arm dance. Around his neck hung a cat's paw on a necklace.
His beak hit the glass and sent chills down my spine. Looking more closely at the other petite avians, I noticed several of them had piercings in the most inappropriate places. I think one Blue Jay was packing but he kept his hood pulled low so I couldn't identify him.
Not knowing what to do I called my dad.
"I told you not to use the cheap bird seed. There's nothing you can do now. They know where you live." he said before hanging up.
Slowly as to not give them any reason to attack, I walked out and threw extra seed to them. The dove nodded at me and threw me a piece sign.
The morale of this story is don't be a cheap a$$ and buy crappy seed.
ON TO THE LETTER H.
H is For......
Here is a fitting poem from Emily Dickinson about Hope.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me
Happy Writing and I promise to get around to all of your blogs sometime this weekend.