The Lost Art of Feeding the Birds

Still from the movie version of Mary Poppins

When I was little, my parents used to send me out with a bag of crusty ends and bread crumbs to feed the birds. Our family had four kids and a dog on a single income in the late 60s and early 70s. My grandparents had lived through the great depression, and nothing was wasted. My father was one of those people who used to say “If you can’t fix it with duct tape, it’s not worth saving!” He found a use, or a re-use, for almost everything.

Bread crumbs were no exception.

Incidentally those same bread bags were then saved and re-used to keep my feet dry inside my leaky winter boots, which as a child felt humiliating, but as an adult who went on to raise four children of my own, and who cares deeply about our planet’s never-decaying supply of plastic? It kind of makes sense.

“Plastic” was still a relatively new concept and my dad was nothing if not practical. He’d grown up poor in his earliest years, living in a small cabin in the woods, hunting and foraging for food. It seems that living that way would give you a much deeper sense of being one small part in a greater whole.

Yes we sometimes made croutons or our own bread crumbs from old crusty bread remains, there were still times when we shared them with the birds. Already small and “beak-sized”, I would tear them into tiny pieces and scatter them on the lawn, but I almost never waited to see who would come and retrieve them.

Now? I actually like feeding the birds.

The property where I live is not a cabin, but it is relatively rural, surrounded by trees of all kinds. I’ve never counted the number of trees on this small acreage but it is in the dozens. And there are birds of all kinds. So many, in fact that I downloaded Merlin ID, Cornell University’s Ornithology app, which analyzes bird song to identify the kinds of birds in your area. Aside from the typical Robin, we also have Stellar’s Jays, Crows, Spotted Towhee, Chickadees, Sparrows and Dark-Eyed Juncos.

There is a chair I like to sit in when I journal and write. I’ve had this particular chair for nearly 20 years now, and it’s currently situated in a room that has large windows on two sides.

Maverick and Finneas, bird watchers and snugglers :)

Perfect for watching the birds. Especially if you’re a cat.

I get a kick out of the little noises he makes when he’s stalking the birds just outside of his reach, so when I feed them bread crumbs or sometimes handfuls of bird seed, I sprinkle some right outside the ledge where he sits. It’s much better than Cat TV.

But more than that, it feels good, taking care of the birds that live and eat from my yard, gardens and orchards. We are lucky to have had blackberries and blueberries already on the property, and in the years we’ve lived here we’ve added grapes, raspberries, strawberries, currants, elderberries and several fruit trees.

The birds aren’t the the only things we care for in our tiny ecosystem. There also tons of rabbits that live in the wild blackberry thickets that line one side of the property. Our dog has fun chasing them (although he rarely catches them) and although our large raised-bed garden is fenced to keep them out of the greens they would otherwise devour, we also toss excess produce down to them on occasion, so they don’t have to come too close to the house and risk being caught by an enthusiastic whippet.

In a gift economy and an ecosystem based on reciprocity, I recognize that when I feed the birds they in turn eat bugs (and are less inclined to snack on the vegetable and flower seeds I lay out in the garden. They help propagate new plants by dropping seeds into the meadows and nearby properties, continuing the growth of different plants and flowers.

I loved Mary Poppins, and I remember the woman who fed the birds but never knew the lyrics of the song Julie Andrews sang until I looked it up recently. It’s a beautiful testament to loving and caring for one another:

Feed The Birds - Julie Andrews 1964

Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's
The little old bird woman comes
In her own special way to the people
She calls, "Come, buy my bags full of crumbs"

"Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you'll be glad if you do
Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare
All it takes is tuppence from you"

"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
Feed the birds", that's what she cries
While overhead, her birds fill the skies

All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares
Although you can't see it, you know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares

Though her words are simple and few
"Listen, listen", she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

Though her words are simple and few
"Listen, listen", she's calling to you
"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag”

Martin House

My grandmother loved birds. She had Martin houses on her little slice of lakeside property in the Thousand Islands in Upstate New York. They looked like hotels and I used to look at them and think “why would you build a hotel for a bird?”

When I was a kid I thought it was weird to like birds. Now look at me… A grandmother who cherishes mornings sitting on my deck cradling a cup of hot tea, listening to bird song. It’s an important reminder of how interconnected we all are. How dependent we are on all of us staying healthy and feeding one another.

There are worse things, I suppose, than to be someone who cares, even for the birds.

And the circle goes round…