Can We Talk 2

Cardinal Gathering

         Today I watched the birds on the porch while I ate my old fashioned oatmeal. There was the usual assortment. When four squirrels took over, I ran off to scare them off. Once I was back inside, the birds returned, whether they knew instinctively that we'd never hurt them, or they knew they could make a quick getaway, or were just too ignorant to assess the risk. The squirrels wait a lot longer; they know I hate them and will go after them. (It's a long story for another day.) The wood thrush, red-headed woodpecker, cardinals, and other unidentified birds came back to feast on the plentiful supply my father puts out each morning as part of his daily ritual.

         I looked up from my coffee and realized I had a congregation of cardinals. They didn't sit still long enough for me to inventory. I know there were at least four females, possibly more, but I didn't want to count any twice. The females aren't as pretty and striking. They blend in more with their surroundings of tree bark and nests to protect their young. But the silhouette is unmistakable. The woodpecker was still there confusing things. There seemed to be a lot of red. In a few minutes, there was one male cardinal.

         The males are the dandies, all dressed up in bright red. They get all the attention. They are photographed and painted. They appear on sports logos, calendars, and sweatshirts. Male cardinals are turned into Christmas tree ornaments and show up on Christmas cards. They are the symbol of beautiful, peaceful winter. They get all the credit, while their wives stay humbly behind the cameras.

         Cardinals are monogamous and mate for life, unlike many birds. We always have at least one cardinal family, nesting in various locations, and they stay year round. One year, they nested by the front door in a big tree. Every time we went outside, a bird would swoop down at us, scaring us in the early morning or early night. They never let up in their guard duty. It never sank in that those tall walking animals, the humans, weren't going to attack their nest. Fortunately, they built somewhere else the following year.

         As I watched this male on the back porch, I wondered if maybe he was an old school Mormon. Chances are there were other males in the vicinity, and these extra females were only visiting relatives. The word probably got out that the seed bonanza was on my deck.