The Secret Life of Birds

My bird feeders are usually swamped by visits from house finches and sparrows.  They’re rather ho-hum in appearance, partly because they’re drab in color and partly because there are so many of them.  I have other more distinctive bird visitors, but my favorite is the cardinal.  I’m not alone in this; seven states have the cardinal as their state bird including Indiana.

 

The female cardinal is quietly elegant, but there is no doubting the male cardinal’s flamboyant grace as he flies into his landing spot on the feeder.  There’s a certain breathtaking beauty that continues to amaze me.  Time after time I spot him nibbling sunflower seeds from the food tray, and I break into a smile.  What, besides bright red feathers, is his attraction?  I've concluded that there is something in his demeanor that reminds me of a desirable human quality.  He seems to pay such good attention to his surroundings.  He has the curious and engaged look I like to receive from a companion.  I don’t mean to anthropomorphize him; it’s just how he appears.

 

This curiosity about the cardinal prompted a cursory Google search.  I was amazed by this short list of facts.  Cardinals in the wild have a lifespan of 15 years.  They weigh 1.5 to 2.0 ounces.  They have three clutches of eggs each season.  That last fact is practically amazing.  I’ve never seen a baby cardinal.  I’ve never even seen a cardinal nest.  This affirms the idea that precipitated this search.  These birds come to my artificial feeding station, eat their fill, and then return to what is to me, a secret life.  I don’t know where they live.  How far do they come to eat at my feeder?  What happens to all those baby cardinals?

 

One of the benefits of a bird feeder is the opportunity to watch an interesting slice of bird life.  Another advantage is the reminder, once again, of how much I don’t know.  “My birds,” especially the cardinal, serve as a gentle bridge to the unknown, and I think a reminder of this is a good thing.  Also my birds remind me of our connectedness too.  Trite, but true, we are all one.