The Birds Are Back!

A bird sitting on a tree branch outside our bedroom window woke me up this morning by singing his head off. I thought for a second it was early summer, 2021, and I’d just pop up, get my bathing suit on, and head over to Mom’s for a “swim”. Then reality sank in. It’s November 22, the leaves are mostly off the trees and we are still in 2020.  The bird didn’t seem to care what the date was.  It was warm enough and he wanted me to know.

I miss the birds of this past spring and summer. They seemed to be everywhere, making a racket morning, noon, and night.  I couldn’t figure out if there actually were more birds than usual this year or I was paying more attention to my surroundings because the world came to a lockdown standstill. I’m not sure what the reason, but over at Mom’s, starting in April, not only were the cardinals, blue jays, robins, and sparrows arriving in droves, so were the squirrels and chipmunks.  Stale bread put out on the terrace every morning by Teresa could have had something to do with it too.

Both mom and I had a cardinal couple living outside our respective homes. I would get a call fairly regularly that went something like this:

Mom: Have the red guys been to you lately?

Me: Yes, this morning.  Mrs. Cardinal was attacking a blue jay in the tree outside my bedroom window. The husband was on a much lower branch watching the action. His poor wife was trying to kick this jerk out of their home. So not only is she less attractive, she has to do the dirty work while he stands around looking all bright red and beautiful.  I yelled out the window “Hey, Mr. Cardinal! Come on! Buck up and help your wife!” That made no difference.

Mom: For heaven’s sake.

Me: How about you? Have you seen your couple?

Mom: I have heard them in the trees talking. They are VERY busy. I wonder why they are so chatty?

Me: Maybe they are talking about how they can’t stand the squirrels.

Mom: Maybe. It’s something. And it’s different.

The bread left out on the stone wall around the elevated terrace off Mom’s kitchen and dining room was ONLY supposed to be for the birds. Mom was extremely annoyed at the squirrels and chipmunks who bulldozed their way in, stuffing their faces with three-day-old brioche while chasing the birds away at the same time. She could be heard shrieking, not infrequently, at them through the closed window.

The squirrels also went after Mom’s potted flowers.

Mom: We have missing purple petunias in the front.

Me: I checked it out.  It looks like it was a squirrel that put its teeth around the plant, pulled it up, and dragged it off.

Mom: Now why would he do that? Maybe it was Mrs. Squirrel’s birthday.

Me: Mom, that’s so nice.  You’re a kind person.

Mom: No I’m not. I’m just doing what we are expected to do and I’m still here to do it.

A week after we decided to end the feeding of every creature who had moved into Mom’s backyard, the squirrels attacked Mom’s tomato crop. Teresa, Mom’s live-in, had five large containers of heirloom, beefsteak, and cherry growing on the terrace. I got a call one day.

Teresa: Lis, the squirrels have gone after the tomato plants.  It’s not good.

Upon my arrival, I clearly see these guys were pissed.  They didn’t touch the ripening red fruit. No, worse. They gnawed off the top stalks of EVERY plant. Each one of these stalks was loaded with yellow blossoms, our future rich harvest, with plans to end up on our plates with basil, mozzarella, olive oil, and a twist of the pepper mill. They dragged the carnage out into full view, right in front of the glass-paned doors, for us to see. The message was clear: You take away our food, we take away yours. This meant war.

After way too much research into how to keep these fluffy-tailed rodents away from the plants, I settled on ordering green mesh bird netting. When it arrived (33 feet) Teresa and I covered all the plants from top to bottom. This had to work. No way could they get in. We were thorough. We used rocks.

Things calmed down for a day or two until I witnessed something extraordinary.  Standing 5 feet off the ground, perched on top of the netting covered heavy-duty tomato cages were the maniacs. The back toes of the squirrels curled around the top rung of the cage, the bodies stretched across to the opposite side, the front paw toes hooked onto the adjacent wire. There were two of them, acting like monkeys trying to rattle themselves free from capture.  They shook those cages so hard, they almost knocked the whole wall of plants down. They were so into it and so angry they didn’t even hear Mom screaming at them. Had I not been in total mouth hanging open shock, I would have videotaped the scene. Absolutely would have gone viral.

Mom: We are not doing tomatoes next year. Clearly, our lives are at stake.

Me: Copy that.