Vodka in the Birdbath.....

I love birds. Having lived in Texas, Colorado, California, Washington and Hawaii, I can say without prejudice that the birds on the east end of Long Island have the prettiest songs. Probably the prettiest in the world, but I haven't gone farther than Italy yet.

Growing up in Sayville, I was a severe asthmatic child who often watched the world from her window. I recall watching birds for hours. I remember my Uncle Neil and Uncle Bill putting vodka in the birdbath. Birds came from Blue Point to Patchogue to drink. A few sips and they were falling off the edge of the birdbath, flopping around on the ground, and flying directly into trees.

I throw three handfuls of birdseed on my back patio every morning. I support five Cardinal couples, at least twelve Blue Jays, about fifty Chickadees, four Robins and a Woodpecker. If I fail to toss out the seed by 7:30 a.m., they come right up to the sliding glass door and look in at me as if to say, "Hey Lady, ya wanna get outta that chair and get the @!*&! seed, we're starvin' out heah."

I've always wanted to know which songs go with which birds, but I could only identify the Chickadees and the Bobwhites because they have the courtesy to say their names. The Cardinals are too shy to stay and sing, they just eat and fly. The Blue Jays have an attitude problem. The Woodpecker, oy, what a bird brain, he should sing because he hasn't got a mate, but he doesn't because he's too worried about taxes. He told me one of the Blue Jays stole his receipts. He said they'd steal his pecker if it wasn't attached to his face. Poor guy.

A nice woman gave me a CD called "Birdsongs with Tom Damiani". Tom Damiani is an Avian expert and tells you about twenty birds on Eastern Long Island. He describes them, which is educational, and imitates their calls, which is a riot (sorry Tom).

I love this CD. I now know my Northern Flicker from my Titmouse...and you thought a Titmouse was a computer accessory for lonely men... I also know my Brown Thrasher from my Scarlet Tanager. The White Breasted Nuthatch is not my alter ego, it's a bird in my backyard! My brother says he is in search of the Double Breasted Mattress Thrasher.

The CD includes about a twenty minute segment that just has birds singing, no talking or interruption. Its great for meditation or comtemplating a Bible passage.

Our grocery store has a complete selection of seed. There's the cheap $1 a bag seed. The $1.50 bag with sunflower seeds. The selection graduates up to the $5 a bag gourmet seed for your birds with discriminating taste.

I feed my birds the $1 a bag seed, so I get the rough characters. The Jays bully all the others away when they come. They wear little leather jackets with "Hell's Birds" on the back. They also smoke tiny cigarettes and talk dirty to the Wrens. Most of the Wrens fly away except for one named Lilah. She's an easy bird who doesn't know wren to say wren. But to her, these Jays are just another feather in her nest. Then there's a Chickadee named Mae. She's fat and sassy. I heard her say to the biggest Cardinal, "Ooo, hunny, migration or yours ? Why don't you fly up and see me some time Big Bird..."