“All I want for Christmas,” I told my husband, Burt, “is a bird feeder and a broom.”
Does that sound silly? Well, maybe so, but I got that bird feeder and a new broom. In fact, I got two bird feeders – one, I was later to learn, was for blue birds – the other for all other seed-feeding fowl. The broom was eventually used to sweep up bird seed from the pool deck.
I couldn’t wait to put the feeders in place and begin my bird watching. But I did wait. And wait. And wait. When would the birds find our feeders that were just for them?
Finally, one male house finch landed on the free-for-all-birds feeder. All alone, he stood on the side of the feeder and called his mate. What beautiful notes he sang. “Come and see what I have found for us!” he seemed to sing. Soon, his little wife slid in for a landing, and together they happily ate dinner.
They were the only birds who came for several days and I felt compelled to name my new companions. They became Fred and Fran Flanagan – the red head of the male dictated the last name.
All was peaceful with the Flanagans until Florence Finch flew in. Now, Fran did not like it one bit that Florence was intruding on her home with Fred. There was trouble with the threesome, and it was not pretty.
The trouble soon ended when the word got out the the Flanagans were having a wild bird party in our back yard. Thus ended the romance in the Flanagan house. There were so many handsome feathered fellows that Fran just let Florence have Fred to herself, while she called to other feathered friends from neighboring feeders.
Eventually, there were not only finches, but mourning doves, quail, jays, juncos and just about any bird you would expect to find in the high desert. I am still feeding them and loving the beautiful bird songs in the morning and evening. All because of one Christmas wish fulfilled.
Fran and Fred Flanagan
