Feeding your Backyard Wildlife According to the Seasons
Spring is in the air, literally.
Gull, crow, raven, grackle, black birds, wren, spoonbill, crane, heron, ibis, and barbarian Muscovy ducks. The entirety of our flighted and furred friends is working hard to build up body, nest, and environment to meet the needs of emerging young down the timeline.
Breakfast feedings have turned into a kazoo convention. The ibis outnumber the duck. The ducks are twice their size but half their attitude. The entire scene sounds like a kazoo convention, looks like feathered incendiary, and feels like a tropical cyclone. It's photogenic, as well.
Three mornings now, four cars, one truck, and a bicyclist have stopped to aim their cellphones at us. Us being me, thirty ibis, 17 ducks, a full murder of crow kvetching in a magnolia tree above, and one female squirrel twitching for the right time to dive into the mayhem. Preggers, our local Floridian squirrel, has been visiting for years now. She excels at twitchy waiting and diving.
Space defines the dinner crowd.
The designated feeding area is the size of a generous walk-in closet. One side is the neighbor's fence, the opposite our house with my office window overlooking. The back of the area is the back of our shed. Tucked away, safe.
Flat hard packed sand/cement applied a few years back to build up that side during a slab installation provides easy foraging. I can keep an eye on the water bowl from my window while I work.
Location defines the visitors.
The backyard is private in as much as it's terrestrial and waterway. Doubly tucked away from human traffic, safe, a field of grasses and flowering weeds. Trees surrounding that while Tinney Creek runs parallel for traveling and foraging opportunity. The lake across the street from our house's front provides all the necessary elements for Spring to erupt fully in our neighborhood. It's filled with thriving tilapia and bass. Turtles, otter, one gator last I heard, and marsh hen that laugh in the night. Human-centric laughter that enters dreams with ease.
Seasons define the reasons.
Spring is here. The angle of the sunrise and the sun's climb took a critical tick spring ward two mornings ago. The air super charged with life. Bright, light, fresh, renewed, and ready to create. Kazooing ibis engulfed the entire scene drowning out the murder of crow lined up in trees, on power lines, and fences. Nature exclaims, "Let the games begin!" The Muscovy duck horde rage against my gates, "WHERE'S BREAKFAST!? We've mouths to create, then feed!"