A Baby Boomer's life for the birds

Goldfinches are pigs.

That's one of the things that I've learned from birds as I've watched them at my bird feeder.

I'm a retired Baby Boomer in search of a hobby. And I've become an armchair bird watcher. I don't go to the birds like most bird watchers. The birds come to me.

So I've become a bit of an desk chair expert on the lives of birds, at least as far as their eating habits are concerned.

The goldfinches -- male and female -- belly up to the feeder and gorge themselves. And I thought I was bad at an all-you-can eat buffet. At least I'm not eating three times my weight at one sitting.

I hung a bird feeder from an eave in front of my home office window. I look out above my computer screen and can see the birds come and go. Watching their behavior has given me a bit of insight into their personalities.

Chickadees grab one sunflower seed and fly away. Nuthatches do the same thing, though they're more gymnastic about their approach and hang upside down in taking a seed before they fly off.

You can see how baseball players learned to eat sunflower seeds by watching birds. The birds break open the seed, eat the meat and eject the shell using just their beaks. Substitute beaks for teeth and you've got baseball players.

Cardinals -- the birds -- are my favorite. They're beautiful to look at. They make little chirps as they eat. They can be a little shy. They hang back, buried in the foliage of the trees nearby. Then they swoop to the feeder, eat for just a moment, then swoop away.

The male cardinals are less shy than the females. The females are very shy; they wait for the males to get to the feeder first as if to make sure the coast is clear. The juvenile females are especially skittish. One in particular appears occasionally out of a big bush outside my window but she rarely makes the short flight to the feeder.

Lately, I've seen a blue jay darting in and out of the cover of the tree line at the edge of the property. He hasn't made a foray to the feeder yet, at least not when I've been at my post.

At one time I had two bird feeders going -- the one outside my office window and one outside the living room window. But it was too much, the responsibility too great. I was going through a big bag of seeds about every 10 days, not to mention the litter of expended sunflower shells on my driveway.

Even with one feeder I feel like I'm in charge of a needy group -- kind of what work used to be like before retirement.

I was away from home and the bird feeder was empty. My wife tells the story of how she and her daughter were sitting out on our deck, enjoying the sun when the male cardinal lit on the rail and started chirping at them, as if to say, "Yo, can one of you please fill the bird feeder while what's-his-name is away?"

Even though cardinals can be skittish, this one had no problems speaking his mind about wanting to be fed.

I've come to think of these birds as ideal pets. They stay outside. They're fun to be with. I don't have to train them. I don't have to take them to the vet. And I don't have to clean up their poop.

Well, except when the feeder is empty and they poop on my car.