We Are Not Amused

Day 181: A six-inch accumulation of snow in April is an unusual occurrence even at my mountain abode, and the friends who have flown here from the south expecting spring to welcome them with buds and blossoms are not exactly pleased with current events. I'm keeping their feeders well stocked, and itis obvious to me by the sheer number of birds gathering that the food sources on which they would normally have depended are presently severely limited. At any one time, I may have a hundred or more finches, juncoes, towhees, grosbeaks, sparrows, etc. standing shoulder to shoulder on the ground beneath the seed trays, ready to grab the scattered spillage as quickly as it lands in the snow. There are very few arguments, surprisingly, except for space on the trays where the grosbeaks attempt to repel all boarders and, having greater bulk, are most often successful. They and the Purple Finches are the bright spots of colour on a grey, dreary and expressly unseasonable landscape.