Morning Dance

On account of marauding raccoons, I bring all the bird feeders in at night.  Normally, I don’t get back outside till around 9:00 a.m.  Before heading out the door, I glance out the window, and, sure as shootin’, there are my birdies parked on the feeder poles, watching the garage door.  

Food is dispensed by size, starting with the hummingbirds and ending with the geese.  Most of the wildlife is accepting of the system, with the exception of my darling yet demanding Downy Woodpeckers. While it’s not unusual for the dainty Downies to chase me on my rounds, chastising “Hurry Up!” in birdese, they took their antics to a new and hilarious level this a.m. 

I have two garages—one of which is unattached from the house. I store the feeders here at night.  When I walked out of the attached garage this morning I was met by a flock of Downies who proceeded to “escort” me to the second garage.  When I opened the door, three flew in, found their favorite feeders and took care of business.  Two others decided that I might move faster if they hitched a ride in my head.  Another little female perched on my hand.  Ouch!  If you’ve ever had bird claws sink into your skin you know it’s not pleasant.  Yet I smiled thru the pain, my heart deeply touched.  It’s rewarding to realize I have earned my avians’ trust. 

I couldn’t imagine a morning without the Downy dance!  Maestro, cue the music . . .