True North

(Photo note: I shot these through double-glazed windows and a bugscreen. The flicker would like you to know that he's sharper than he appears.)

We have had several noteworthy bird visitors on the terrace. A red-tailed hawk that eviscerated its pigeon prey in a window box (while Nkwe Pirelli, our cat, stood on his long hind legs and beat his white-tipped feet against the glass door). A kestrel, shopping for sparrows. A Cooper's hawk, more interested in doves. During migration there are occasional, tiny songbirds. Our regular winter guests include red-bellied and downy woodpeckers, juncos, white-throated sparrows. The doves. 

And now, a northern flicker. I think he's David Lynch.

I mean, not really. But maybe. He flies in from the north, too. True north, not the off-set north of the city's grid.

I love these birds. They are usually so very shy. And I have never seen one in winter. They congregate in autumn and we see flocks of them peering at us from behind the headstones at nearby Historic Green-Wood Cemetery. You just glance at them and they're off, their white rumps bee-lining for the trees.

So watching this northern flicker return every morning for the last week is a kind of feathered gift. He decimates the suet, pieces flying. Later, the small birds come and clean it up.

They're funny birds. Curious, careful. And in real life, when not hanging from suet feeders, they feed not in the trees, but on the ground, hunting ants and other insects. 

Bird flu: So far, the wild birds it affects seem to be water birds and raptors. Songbirds seem less prone to the illness, but data might also be lacking. When the suet block is eaten I take down the feeder, scrub it and give it a 5-minute Chlorox bath, rinse well, and out it back up. I also disinfect the birdbath weekly. It's not perfect, but better than nothing.

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