Romance All Around Me- In TN it's Bird Betrothal Time

As much as we have taken trips to parks each day, and that lovely walk through the mountains, there is nothing like your own backyard, even in the midst of suburbia, to witness more bird action than on any forested trail.

Since I arrived a week ago, I have been watching the comings and goings, the wooing and the skirmishes between several competing male Cardinals. Also having fun with my toddler granddaughter, creeping around after “Jenny” wren, actually a Carolina Wren, who has entertained us no end. We have watched robins gather nesting material and listened to the “toohee “ of what appears to be an abundant Towhee population. To say nothing of the hundreds of Blackbirds and Starlings that come flying in from all corners as the sun sets to roost in the neighbor’s fairly extensive bamboo patch.

But by far, the most entertaining have been the Cardinals. When I first arrived, there was the usual dive bombing of male against male as one would try to intrude into the others space, and at one time there seemed, though I could be wrong, to be three males trying to win the hand of one lady. I mentioned in my last blog, the rather pathetic sight of one male that had lost all his head feathers, yet was still gamely trying to win this maiden’s hand, or claw as it were. Sad to say, although we hoped for awhile that she might look deeper than just external beauty, I think survival of the fittest has kicked in, for it seems the most dapper, is winning out. I have seen them passing seeds back and forth, a sign of courtship in Cardinals, so I think Bachelor number 2 has been sent packing. Including a photo here might indicate why.


Ah, poor guy. And what it is that could cause a bird to “tear his hair out” in this way you may ask? Is life that stressful for them? Well, for captive birds, in a confined space, or hens in a hen house, there can be a “pecking order”, that’s where that term comes from after all, but not in the great outdoors. I have always been told it was due to a mite infection. A small insect that eats through the shaft of the feather which, of course, would cause it to drop off. It has been reasoned that mites on any other part of the body are removed easily during preening, but YOU try to preen your own head clean. Apes and monkeys are always offering that kindness to one another but I am not aware of birds doing it. So, the reasoning goes, the head is vulnerable and when the mites run out of head feathers they have to move on to another bird or risk being preened to death themselves if they get on a beak accessible feather.

Well that makes good sense to me, but you know there are always those with another opinion. Some insist it is an overactive molt if you will. Birds need to molt to replace worn feathers; their life depends on it. For flying, for keeping warm, and this usually happens a few feathers at a time, but some will say it is simply a molt gone into hyper-drive. Cardinals in particular, do molt after the mating season; once you have impressed your woman you can let your looks go, kind of thing. You see these frazzled looking birds now and in the summer when they are raising the young birds. I used to assume it was the stress of child rearing that did it. As a mom of three young children at the time, that made the most sense to me. So perhaps it is just a issue of molting.

Others will claim it is dietary in nature, for there are anecdotes out there of Blue Jays (another bird who gets this “Vinny the Vulture” look going from time to time) who have been fed a vitamin supplement and came out looking like a successful Rogaine ad. So whatever, chose your position, or postulate a whole new one if you like. But when all is said and done, our pterodactyl mimic didn’t win the day. Survival of the fittest might lead you to not choose the most mite ridden after all.

And now, look what we have done, we have prattled (we Pat?) on so long about Cardinals that we will simply have to leave the other bird antics to another day. Elena has been hopping up and down in her crib, obviously not napping, throughout the writing of this. So, off to the yard so she and I can spread some yarn for the Robins to find. We watched one today tugging on a clothesline so determinedly that I thought I had to provide something that wasn’t tied down. But, more on that another day- happy, day-after-Earth day, to you all. Wherever you are planted, may you find some delight in the world out your backdoor.