Tuesday, August 19, 2014

rat a tat tat

A movement at the bird feeder caught our eye.
A silhouette against the evening sky.
Our eye traced the shape and compared it to the file in our brain marked, Silhouettes Of Things That Should Be In A Bird Feeder and there was the sound of screeching brakes and screams of terror.
Well maybe not really.
But my husband and I both leapt to our feet in unison with the same word on our lip.
Ten years ago, we moved to this house, here in the heart of town.
We brought our boxes and our bric a brac and even a few plants from the garden.
And we brought our bird feeding ways.
We were horrified when rats promptly arrived with napkins tucked under the stubble on their chins.
We reluctantly gave up our feeders.
The years rolled by and we settled for life without.....
Without the constant flutter of birds at the window elbowing each other out of the way for prime sunflower seeds.
Rosy house finch, sparrow, pine siskin.
We've had robins of course, they've kept the worm population terrorized.
And we've had jays. They sweep through like an unruly gang from time to time, stirring up unrest.
And of course we've had crows.
We've really missed the little birds though.
The little bright, busy, bossy birds.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast doesn't it?
A rat free decade lulled us onto the slippery slope of self deception.
My husband built a marvelous bird feeder.
He installed it on the deck railing so that we could have front row seats.
If you build it, they will come.
They did.
But I guess the word got out.

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