Porch Birding

I am sitting on our front porch beneath the shade of the vaulted porch roof.  It's a hot day, but a breeze blows through this space and I am comfortable.  The work is done and my sole purpose in sitting here is just to watch.  I am watching all of the comings and goings - from woods to bird feeders and back again.

Beside me, lying in the sun are Annie 

and Forrest (Chester has chosen the cool of the indoor air-conditioning).

Suddenly, there's a coolness to the air as the wind picks up speed and I am aware of dark clouds gathering overhead.  The metallic "squeeeeeeee" of the garage weathervane as it turns in the wind adds a shrill overtone to the gentle chorus of birdsong I've been hearing.  

From the top of the fir tree across the yard from where I sit, I hear the cooing of mourning doves.  Their mournful cry is almost drowned out by the call of a Carolina wren hidden in some brush below - its song almost too loud for its diminutive stature.

 Further down in the fir tree a red bellied woodpecker peeks out from his hiding spot on a branch.

Within moments, he leaves his hidden perch and alights on the suet feeder.

This suet feeder attracts a lot of attention. 

 There is usually someone waiting in the shadows of the trees for their turn upon it.  This time it's a Baltimore oriole.

Elsewhere, a downy woodpecker fluffs her feathers and awaits her turn,

then finds an open spot and takes it.

A platform feeder is also a popular landing spot for bluejays, finches, cardinals, and an occasional common grackle.

I am delighted with an audience afforded me by two rare visitors -  a rose-breasted grosbeak, and an indigo bunting.

A pair of goldfinches lands on the crook that holds the sunflower seed feeder, wearing their bright, sunny summer finery

If it weren't for the movement of the dogs on the porch, this coming and going would continue all afternoon and evening.

We feed a lot of birds here at our home at the edge of the woods.  A worthy cause, I believe.  So much of these winged creatures' habitat has been taken over by humanity.  Sadly, fields of soy and corn offer no nutrition to these tiny, feathered beings.  So, we offer them food in exchange for a chance to witness their ethereal beauty.