A Drop in the Bucket

Tuesday was a day of Cedar Waxwings.  Wing-loads of waxwings swooped into my garden, water features drawing them in for bathing, trees available for perching.

There were so many birds, it was almost overwhelming. These photos don’t tell the compete story–it was hard to get clear photos with so much activity–but they will give you an idea of the bunches of birds who bathed.

As I’m only adequate with a camera, clear group shots were challenging–at best. These birds rarely sit still and take off en masse when spooked by the slightest movement. I took most photos from indoors through *somewhat* clean windows, rather than becoming the cause of their frights and flights. When Cedar Waxwings visit, sidling outdoors, no matter how stealthily, elicits winged energy upwards and outwards from the garden.

Whoosh! Swoosh!!

So many waxwings…

Like many before them, the waxwings enjoyed the planter saucer for bathing and sipping.

The saucer, originally intended for my dog, mostly performs as a bird bath these days, with occasional slurping by racoons and opossums. Tuesday, it was all birds, all day.

In another part of the garden, this crowd awaited the arrival of Dear Leader.

Along a walkway,

…this bunch milled about, waiting for their turns,

…at this popular wet bar.

Tuesday was a wild day in the garden. Hundreds of these beauties descended on my garden, on and off throughout the morning–hanging out in trees, winging to the waters for swigs and splashes, and mingling with their mates.

Quiet moments happened.

Bird poop happened.

Cedar Waxwings will stay in Central Texas through mid-spring, munching fruit, seeking showers, and socializing with one another. Besides their visits to the popular water features, I expect that their next target in my garden will be the ripe berries on the Burford Holly.

When they come for the berries, I’ll get my hat!

Hear My Tweets!

It’s not what you think.

There’s always that one who looks at life differently!

Cedar Waxwings, Bombycilla cedrorum, gather in a circle at the bath and eagerly await to hear from Dear Leader.

Dear Leader arrives and takes the podium, followers bow.

Fellow Waxwings listen raptly to Dear Leader’s tweets, cheeps, chirps: So let it be tweeted, so let it be done.

Are the waxwings organizing something nefarious, or is Dear Leader simply imparting directions for the water feature visit? Considering the amount of waxwing poop the hordes of beautiful birds leave behind, the two goals might be the same.

For more garden stories, check out Anna’s Wednesday Vignette.

It’s a Stretch

If nothing else, I’m impressed with his determination.

But balance and agility of this hungry squirrel are admirable, as well.

Squirrels, like many birds, enjoy peanuts and will go to great, stretchy lengths for their fill. I don’t mind their eating the peanuts that I intend for birds, except when one of these rascally rodents plants its fuzzy butt on the feeder and gobbles up the goods. Last summer, I discovered the use of hot pepper sauce to mix into the peanuts. Birds don’t taste pepper sauce, but squirrels steer clear of the fiery mix. The pepper sauce is so hot, that I wear gloves as I mix the blistery stuff with the peanuts and I stand as far away as possible, turning my head and holding my breath I wash out the container that I use for the mixture. The cloud of pepper sauce is remarkably cough-inducing. I can’t even fathom what it would be like if I got some of it in my eyes.

I don’t want to think about that.

During the season of squirrels-loving-peanuts (now until mid-summer) I do toss out handful of peanuts on the ground for the squirrels, I’m not a monster, after all. I like squirrels, I’m (mostly) glad they’re in my garden. I know they benefit from the peanuts, especially the mommy squirrels, and I’m happy for them to nosh the fat-laden protein. That said, I don’t want them bullying the birds at the feeder. So, hot sauce it is.

This acrobatic feat, this stretch for the treat, is the sign I need to rev up the pepper sauce with peanuts concoction. It’s another sign of spring to come.

For other garden stories, check out Anna’s Wednesday Vignette.