Catching the Birding Fever

Fifteen years ago I moved from Boston to Texas. I was thrilled that as a novice birder (even more novice than I am now :) I had compiled a list of "backyard journal" some thirty birds spotted from my yard--a 6000 square foot postage stamp of a place.

I remember some thrilling times in that entry period: seeing and hearing the deep, resonant song of a Baltimore Oriole, spotting my first brilliantly colored American Goldfinch, learning the difference between a Purple Finch and a House Finch, and in a bittersweet experience, seeing my first Cedar Waxwing but alas, dead.

Nothing matched the excitement of getting our little Massachusetts mascot, the Black-Capped Chickadee, to eat out of my bare hand. The birds grew quite comfortable with seeing me at my kitchen window where the birdfeeder hung. One day, I slid a winter glove filled with sunflower seeds out the window on a long wooden slat. The chickadees cautiously got hopped on it, and I slowly moved the stick closer to the glass. When they seemed quite comfortable, I placed my hand in the glove and patiently waited. I was rewarded! The rewards continued to come when I removed the glove and fed them straight from my bare hand, or when I would stand by the feeder with the noisy little guys flitting about my head.

I was excited when I moved to Austin and learned that we have what appear to be Carolina Chickadees here. I have my sights set on sharing that experience with my daughters. I'll keep you posted!