Day 116: You know I love birds. Most birds, that is. There are Exceptions: pigeons, starlings, eagles (just big pigeons with white heads and a larger appetite for garbage). I even enjoy seeing Canada Geese as long as they stay over there when I'm over here, and I have never had any specific personal issues with the notorious English Sparrow. However, then there are Red-Winged Blackbirds. If they'd just remained in their bogs! But no, they stopped by one afternoon several years back and discovered that black-oil sunflower seeds are somewhat tastier than cattail seeds, and now I can't get rid of them. I bang on the window. I clap my hands loudly. I run through the yard waving my arms screaming invective strong enough to curdle milk, but they only move across the street, returning as soon as I turn my back. The other birds seem to understand the dilemma, hardly pausing when they see me raving about "*$&%ing blackbirds!!!" It's as if they know that I'm defending the feeders, something they daren't try against this highly aggressive species. No other bird scares them away: not jays, not crows, not even the ravens. Talk about a sense of entitlement! I'll stand a blackbird up against a welfare recipient any day.
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