Lemon tree full of finches

Five perch on feeder while two wait in lemon tree

  My lemon tree flutters and shimmers with life these days. House finches have discovered the nearby feeder, and they have spread the word. As they dart by the dozens from feeder to tree and back, they squawk and wrestle and chatter with delight. At least, I hope it's delight. Their friendly rivalry for a perch seems harmless enough; meanwhile, they entertain me, a rookie backyard bird watcher.
  This began a few months ago with my uninformed purchase of a wire mesh feeder at a local pet store. I noticed it when I had gone to buy dog food. Thinking about the rural area in which I live and the deck just outside my favorite room, I decided that attracting birds might provide a pleasant pastime. I also purchased random seed, came home, filled the cylinder and hung it on a pole where I could see it easily from my room. No birds. For weeks, no birds.
  When I mentioned this to one of my bird-watching friends, she said I had put the wrong food for the kind of feeder I had. "Buy thistle," she said. "The birds can't get to the seeds you bought. The mesh is too fine. You need thistle." So I bought thistle. No birds. For weeks, no birds.
  "Be patient," my friend said. "They have to find it. Once they find it, they will keep coming."
   How hard is it, I'm thinking. It's the only feeder out there.
  "Try sprinkling some on the ground to see what happens," she said.
  I sprinkled. No birds. For weeks, no birds.
 Then I went to visit another friend for help on an entirely different project. While there, she showed me her backyard, which overlooks a canyon near the coast. She had several different feeders and birdhouses. Birds swooped about and twittered happily. When I asked her secret, she sent me to a nearby store that specializes in attracting backyard birds. A sizable chunk of change later, I came home with some wild bird education, two new feeders and poles on which to hang them.
  Whether coincidental or by design, a few days later birds began to peck at the thistle on the ground where I had placed my original feeder. As if on cue, the next day a few more showed up on the new feeders filled with seed. I had no idea what kinds of birds they were, so I grabbed my camera and started snapping pictures. I e-mailed them to my informed friends, who identified them as white-crowned sparrows and house finches. Soon some mourning doves joined the group.
  Apparently they had "found" the feeders.
 I became a bit giddy about this avian food frenzy. I began to arise at daybreak to see what might be happening each morning. I marveled at the different shades of color in the male finches. I smiled at the sparrows who occasionally hopped up onto the deck. I paid close attention to see if I could discover new visitors.
   Some might accuse me of developing not just a new interest, but an obsession. I have shared multitudes of photos, and I have increased the number of feeders from three to four. I have varied the food so that a diversity of birds might get in on the action. The latest is suet, which should attract wrens and woodpeckers.
   At the advice of my newfound friends at the wild bird store, who are genuinely knowledgeable but also probably have little objection to my wallet, I have added the element of water. I found a lovely glass birdbath with a brilliant cardinal embossed in the bowl.
  The cardinal reminds me of my dear Aunt Ruth, who loved to gaze at her cherished cardinals as they visited her prize-winning garden in Toledo, Ohio. She called them "redbirds" and fed them sunflower seeds from a table in her backyard. She loved to sit by her kitchen window while sipping iced tea and watch their antics. As an adult, I learned that she often spiked her iced tea with Southern Comfort, which explains why she usually had a sweet smile on her face. I'm not likely to see actual cardinals here in Southern California, so I will enjoy this replica to remind me of my familial connections.
  Now I must go to bed. I have an early morning date.