The Season of Birds

It may be the dead of winter right now. Indeed we’re holding our breaths for the snowstorm about to start sometime after we all go to sleep tonight.

But it is bird season right outside my kitchen window.

A few weeks ago my husband set up a backyard birdfeeder. On cue half the local birds have apparently found their way right in front of my kitchen window. At any given moment I can creep into the kitchen and spot both male and female cardinals, grackles, thrushes, mockingbirds, sparrows, finches, blue jays and what appears to be a large male woodpecker.

We play Name That Bird half a dozen times a day and rush to what my daughter has dubbed The Bird Book. My husband and I wander into the kitchen and discuss whether the bird hovering in front of us is a Tennessee Warbler or Nashville Warbler.

This delights my six year old. She stands in front of the window as if her sheer force of will could charm the birds closer. She clearly hopes they will somehow find their way not only into the yard but into the house as well.

Bird watching is a fine past time for a child. As I share in her glee I am slowly learning just how much I enjoy seeing the small creatures timidly grab at what is surely their version of a rest stop on the New Jersey turnpike.

The birds hang out in the tree where we’ve set the birdfeeder. We’ve also set up a small table with various treats much closer to the window. One or two come to the table gingerly, prepared to run away at the merest hint of movement. A few get bolder and not only peck the seed but the window and siding as well.

Although they’re New Jersey birds I’m still waiting to hear one of them chirp with the alleged local accent. So far the actual sopranos have declined to mimic the fictional Sopranos.

When I grew up in Brooklyn I would look inside as I passed the large apartment houses and wonder what was going on behind each window. I would picture families laughing and crying as life went on right behind the brick and glass I saw for a single second yet did not get to see.

Now I have grown up. I am on the other side of the window. The canvas that unfurls in front of me is a bit smaller but just as fascinating, just as worthy of my attention, concentration and imagination.