The bird feeder bearly survived

 Last night what we can only assume was a bear climbed the stairs to the deck and drained the nectar feeder of sugar water and the squirrel-proof bird feeder of coarse sunflower chips. [It was my own fault for being absent-minded about taking the feeders down.] S/he also knocked the bird bath off of its railing mount. Neither of our dogs uttered a peep, acting on the premise that discretion is the better part of valor? Alternative feeders have been filled and hung. The bird bath has been replaced and repairs to the squirrel-proof feeder initiated.

Interestingly, the alternative feeder is not squirrel-proof but has a tray as its base. Within an hour of hanging it, the first scarlet tanager of the year arrived. The squirrel-proof feeder had its “cardinal ring” mounted around its base, but the cardinals rarely used it. We wonder if the tanager was also waiting for a feeder more to its liking before showing himself.

male scarlet tanager on deck railing

Photo by J. Harrington

Poison ivy has appeared along the roadside where we walk the dogs. Today it got a dose of RoundUp because we are all out of poison ivy killer. We’ll see if the RoundUp is effective. We hate to use glyphosate but know of no better way to eliminate poison ivy. The dogs haven’t the sense to stay away from it and it’s enough of a challenge keeping up with the ticks they bring into the house. Having poison ivy oils distributed on the carpets and furniture or adhering to coats adds potential injury to insults.

We used to get perturbed when a bear would hit our bird feeders. Then, one year, we discovered that a whitetail deer knocked a sunflower seed feeder off its hanger and kicked the daylights out of it. That put a whole different perspective on the damage bears accomplish. Bambi as a vandal was a new one on us.

The Truro Bear

by Mary Oliver

There’s a bear in the Truro woods.
People have seen it - three or four,
or two, or one. I think
of the thickness of the serious woods
around the dark bowls of the Truro ponds;
I think of the blueberry fields, the blackberry tangles,
the cranberry bogs. And the sky
with its new moon, its familiar star-trails,
burns down like a brand-new heaver,
while everywhere I look on the scratchy hillsides
shadows seem to grow shoulders. Surely
a beast might be clever, be lucky, move quietly
through the woods for years, learning to stay away
from roads and houses. Common sense mutters:
it can’t be true, it must be somebody’s
runaway dog. But the seed
has been planted, and when has happiness ever
required much evidence to begin
its leaf-green breathing?

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.