Several weeks after we moved into this house I was sitting in our front room gazing out at a dismally snow covered front lawn when I was surprised to see that our front tree was full of vividly blue little birds. Calvin was napping and I sat there and watched them for the time that they spent there, feasting my eyes on the little world splash of color they had brought to my corner of the world. Though my mother had a feeder and has spent her evenings whistling conversations with cardinals and robins for as long as I can remember, birds had not previously held much too large a part of my imagination. That afternoon, however, Calvin and I drove to Lowe's to find whatever it was that those little lapis birds would eat and a means with which to feed it to them, and thus began a fascination that has only grown stronger over time for all three of us.
Our yard, both in front and back, now houses three different kinds of feeders and many times more birds; we enjoy cow birds, red-winged black birds, horned larks, all the finches and sparrows you can imagine, jays, robins, cardinals, and even a couple very regular humming birds, but to this day I think the bluebirds are my favorite. That day two years ago I couldn't have identified the little buggers in my front tree—I believed bluebirds were very rare and it never crossed my mind that our front tree could teeming with them on their return to the area for nesting season—but they return to our neighborhood every year, and as I have added gardens and a multitude of low level perches (like tomatoes cages and shepherd's hooks) they have become regulars in our yard. This year, in fact, we have our very own pair—they are on our deck or in our yard every morning and evening and off and on throughout the day every single day. I think it's likely that they are at least considering nesting under our deck, if they haven't done so already, and I am kicking myself for not having installed a few nesting boxes in time, though I will be sure to get them in this summer for next year's brood.
