by Director of College Counseling Corie McDermott-Fazzino We feed the birds. I’m sure our cars would be cleaner if we didn’t – the feeder hangs ten feet away from our driveway – but we enjoy it too much to care. The ritual of it marks the rhythm of the seasons and gives our son, Wyatt, an opportunity to learn about nature.
Very Unexpected Ways
In the winter, our yard rivals a National Geographic avian documentary. Chickadees flit here-and-there. Woodpeckers (we host three different species) squabble over suet and squawk angrily when I loiter too close while buckling Wyatt into his car seat. The surrounding overgrown yews house at least three cardinal pairs (Crazy fact: One male cardinal has a bald head after surviving being pinned by a hawk against our kitchen window…which I witnessed, mouth agape, while on the phone with a college representative.) The greater landscape surrounding our house might appear dormant in February, but our massive American Linden tree is alive with activity. During the summer months, bugs and worms replace our feeder food – but our yard is no less busy. Chirping starts around 3:45 AM, and it is loud. Like, so loud that for the first year living in the house, it would wake me, regularly. In mid-May we hang the hummingbird feeder so the ruby-throats have nectar awaiting them after their long flight from Mexico. While tiny, hummingbirds have big personalities. They prefer Domino sugar water – and snub all other mixtures. They are territorial and aggressive, often chasing each other and colliding in mid-flight. They are also particular about feeder maintenance: it must be cleaned and changed often. It took us two years to establish a ruby-throat population– but these days, our feeder usually buzzes with activity. What does this have to do with college? I’m getting there. On May 10th, with Wyatt at my heels repeatedly asking “what’s that?”, I hung up our hummingbird feeder for the season. “Just wait,” I told him as he watched me struggle with the feeder clip. “Hummingbirds. They’re so cool.” “So cool,” Wyatt echoed as he wandered away toward his toys.
PAGE 16
