Well it’s been a minute since I last posted. Would love to say that I didn’t have time to write but as we all know, that’s an excuse wannabe writers use all the time. So here I am, sitting down and writing…that’s the secret sauce, right?
If you read my first Wild Life Photography, thank you. It was a bit ‘vulgar’ as my Mum would say, but hope it evoked a chuckle or two…this will be a variation on that story, with slightly different characters. And no, you don’t HAVE to read the first story to understand the second one…..unless you want to (#shameless plug).
So what was the muse whispering in my ear this morning? It couldn’t have been my wife as she was still hooked up to her CPAP machine…no, it was the inspiration I received while doing the dishes this morning. That’s right, standing at the kitchen sink ,looking out our back window while scrubbing a few pots and rinsing a few plates. And what did I see? It’s what I didn’t see that disappointed me the most.
See, a few weeks ago my wife installed a bird feeder on our back deck (because it was beyond my skill set) – and filled it with safflower seeds. Two main reasons for this culinary delight; one – they are bitter and supposedly squirrels will not eat them. And two, and more importantly, they are favoured by cardinals. Since my father in law passed away a few years ago, we have had quite a few sightings of this regal bird on our property. According to Gemini, “seeing a red cardinal after losing a loved one is believed to be a comforting sign that the departed is visiting or sending a message from heaven”. This must be 100 per cent true because it was on the internet – I will accept this notion wholeheartedly because I too loved the man known as ‘Ossie’.
It took about a week before the first cardinal arrived – or should I say cardinals, as they are a husband/wife team. And fun fact here…I learned that they are totally monogamous – till death do they part, for better or worse, etc..
From my perch in the kitchen, the male was a bright red with a black bandit mask around the eyes…the female was shorter, and dare I say plumper, version in a burnt orange/red color; very cool looking.
We named the male bird Ossie, and his partner (just like in real life) got the affectionate nickname ‘Doll”. I’m not a bird expert (eschewed the use of the term Ornithologist here as I do not want to come across as a pompous ass), but I do admire the small tuft of hair on top of the bird that resembles a Mr. T mohawk. But unlike his do, this mohawk tuft can rise up and down on cue.
I’m guessing here but think that it must be used the same way that raised eyebrows are; For example, it can signal indignation if those safflower seeds are not being ferried over from the feeder fast enough for Doll’s liking. Of, if Ossie decides he’s going off to shoot a round of 18 holes without her permission. I pity the fool. Because that birdie is in trouble.
For a while, we would look forward to seeing the sight of this couple – they always travelled together and looked like they were inseparable. They have a very distinctive chirping pattern (as opposed to indistinctive). My wife and I found this soothing and relaxing and would coo to the birds – through the closed and screened kitchen window of course – and it always made me smile.
But then party crasher showed up – from an umbrella tree that was adjacent to the bird feeder. In certain circles, or rhomboids, these creatures are deemed ‘cute, furry, and loveable’.. To me, they are freeloaders, hoarders, and a nuisance…and I can tell Ossie and Doll are not pleased with this guest.
You guessed it…I’m talking about the Tamias Striatus, a member of the Sciuridae. Or lesser known as the …..chipmunk. Squirrel family. In the past, I harboured no grudge towards these squirrel like creature (unless of course they were fornicating on our back deck). I felt sorry for them when they eneded up in our dryer vent – trying to evade the bitter cold of Canadian winters – only to meet their demise in a load of whites. Thank goodness for febreeze.
But my views have sinced changed; once they horned in on those safflower seeds, taking food out of the mouths of Ossie and Doll, I no longer think of them as Alvin, Simon, or Theodore, …I have a new name for them when I see them. Little Motherf#$%ers. Or LMF for short, or better yet, Ellameff. Wow, if my mother thought my last post was ‘vulgar’..
And as I write this, I have just witnessed another raid by Ellameff..he’s got brass spherical objects. He knows I’m watching him..through the double layered glass at the sink…but he continues gorging himself and filling his cheeks to such an extent, that he resembles Don Corleone after a trip to the Golden Corral. Pure gluttony.
And not only doesn’t he respond to my fist pounding on the window to ‘scare’ him away, he has the nerve to moon me for good measure. Again, I will try to include a few photos to document this behaviour but the pics may be a bit grainy or ‘grassy knoll-ish’ in nature. I plan on submitting these pics for consideration for SPOTY (Squirrel Photographer of the Year).
Now that the feeder has been depleted of all nourishment, we have haven’t had any more visits from the birds or the chipmunks. They may have moved on to greener pastures, or better stocked feeders. We will welcome the return of Ossie and Doll, knowing that Ellameff will not be far behind. Filling the feeder will be on my weekend ‘To Do’ list. Along with checking the dryer vent.
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