Day 81: Last spring, the noisy family who had been my neighbours for the last five years moved away. I knew better than to expect an immediate response from the birds who had become skittish and elusive during their tenure. Too many generations had hatched, and the tendency toward nervousness had been reinstilled even in those adults who knew empirically that I was not to be feared. Gradually, the Dark-Eyed Juncos grew less timid and the Steller's Jays' boldness reasserted itself. The Ravens returned, and the Crows gathered by dozens on their feeding platform. Over the summer months, a regular schedule of daily rations brought fewer and fewer panicked flights when I would step out onto the porch, at least with the year-'round residents, but the migratory species were slower to adjust.
When the Porchies first showed up a few weeks ago, I couldn't even walk around the living room without sending them flying across the road. Opening the back door caused a mass exodus from feeder and bough alike. After having had their trust for so many years, the flighty behaviour created by my former neighbours upset me, but I still had hope. Evening Grosbeaks are friendly people once they get to know you, and I am happy to say that this morning I spent quite a while standing on the porch, camera in hand despite the cold temperatures, listening to the happy sounds of seeds cracking and throaty chirps. Porch Parrot Paradise has resumed business as usual, and black-oil seed is being lavished on the clientele.
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