Canter Bridge

This Memorial Day weekend has provided the time and energy for a major restock of my bird supplies.

The result has been some new visitors:

A Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker has made brief, resplendent visits for seed and peanuts. He’s stayed long enough for this novice birdwatcher to mark the distinction between him and his suspected alternative identity, the Redheaded Woodpecker.

What appears to be a Gray Catbird has also been about, although too briefly. He is rightly described in my bird books by adjectives like ‘handsome’ and ‘slender’.

A hanging wren house has a hyperactive family of renters for the second year running. I’ve still not determined whether they’re Carolina or House Wrens. Momma Wren’s flight was simply too fast to tel when I approached the house two evenings ago. She immediately popped her unmistakably wren-shaped head out of the house and flew to what she regarded as safety. I’m much better with shapes than colors, so it’ll take me some more sightings before I can correctly sort the identity of her clan.

I hadn’t realized that some of our black birds were so enthusiastic about feeder food. But a European Starling has been a bit obsessive about some calcium-heavy suet I put out yesterday. And an American Crow has just now fulfilled an appointment to pick up a whole peanut in the shell.

Last evening, as the pizza warmed and the pre-race (Indy 500) show rambled on at a friend’s house in Fishers, two handsome little gray birds were busy at his feeder. I’ve yet to figure out who and what they were.

My Ruby-Throated Hummer continues to busy himself at a refreshed supply of nectar. I have only remote hopes of a Baltimore Oriole response to the orange-colored feeder that hangs nearby.

Back to wrens: these creatures are so endearing. I bought a second wren house at our Wild Birds Unlimited and hung it on an unused hook very near to the house and to my easy chair. This will be an experience in how close my nesting neighbors are comfortable in making a new home. Or perhaps it’s too late in the season for that. Hope springs from the comment ‘two broods per year’ are normal.

A put up a ‘sock’ full of Nyger Thistle last week to find out whether it was my thistle or my thistle feeder that is responsible for my notorious inability to satisfy the beautiful American Goldfinches that are around. Apparently it was the feeder, for two males and a female have scheduled occasional feasts on the sock this week.

The usual coterie of White-Breasted Nuthatches, House Sparrows, Northern Cardinals, Mourning Doves, and Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers makes for good backyard company. I crawled up on a ladder last weekend to verify that my large owl box in the front yard, poised in promising proximity to Holliday Park just across the street, is entering its third season of underperforming rental space. The same is true of the smaller owl box in the backyard.

I’ve put up a new Bluebird House along a front row of hedges, more to let any local Bluebirds know they’d be welcome to stay than out of any concrete hope of actually hosting a family. I was moved last year to read of the need for ‘bluebird trails’ of houses.

I’ve missed the date for putting up my 80%-assembled Purple Martin house for the second day. The business of finishing the thing and setting it up via the right use of concrete and a big hole is daunting. Perhaps 2009 will be the year for that. Maybe a colony of Martins will join me in watching the 500 at our house(s) next year.