Mary Belk: Bird-watching can be for anybody

What do you get when you feed the birds? Fat birds. So says Mr. Banks in the movie Mary Poppins. But for me it means more.

My interest in bird feeding started a few years ago. I invested $7 for a feeder and a bag of birdseed, pounded in a nail, filled and hung the feeder, and was on my way to a new hobby. Even though I’ve had to replace the feeder several times due to squirrel attacks, it’s still one of the cheapest forms of entertainment I can think of.

First thing each morning I’m greeted by a rainbow of varicolored warblers outside my window. I mainly see cardinals, wrens, black-capped chickadees, goldfinches and tufted titmice. Once in a while I’m delighted by the appearance of a redheaded woodpecker that clings by his claws, craning his neck to nab a sunflower seed in his bill. Then he’s off to the nearest pine tree to hammer while he ingests the seed.

Bird-watching has made me wonder—what makes a bird different from every other creature? The answer is a single word: feathers. They’re what make a bird a bird.

Birds have wings, too. But although a wandering albatross and a chimney swift spend most of their lives flying, penguins and ostriches can’t fly. Penguins use their wings for swimming. Ostriches hold their wings out for balance as they run. The kiwi of New Zealand has body feathers that resemble a shaggy coat of hair, no tail feathers and wings so tiny you can’t see them.

And every bird has a bill. Blue jays use their bills as tweezers to pick up seeds and insects. A heron spears fish with its sharp beak, a hummingbird has a tube bill, and an oystercatcher uses its bill to pry open oyster shells.

Edward Lear’s poem “The Pelican Chorus” says, “A wonderful bird is the pelican! His beak holds more than his belican.” A laughing gull will stand on a pelican’s head and steal fish out of its big bill.

Birds also have a kind of language. Almost every sound they make has a meaning. Some of their songs are warnings to other birds. And some are calls that mean “I’ve found food,” or “Come here.” Parrots and parakeets can even be taught to imitate sounds. Shakespeare mentioned talking starlings in “King Henry the Fourth.”

Margaret Corbo tells the true story of an orphan starling that learned to talk in the book “Arnie the Darling Starling.” Arnie developed a large vocabulary including phrases like, “What are you doing?” “Come see Arnie.” “I love you.” And he sang loud versions of “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore” and “Beethoven’s Fifth.”

I’ve had fictional bird friends through the years. The Roadrunner outsmarting Wylie Coyote and Tweety Bird avoiding Sylvester were childhood favorites.

But I never had much interest in birds in my younger days. I thought bird-watching was for old codgers. Now I realize that’s not so.

Mary Belk lives in Auburn and writes a column for the Opelika-Auburn News.