The Washington Post recently published an amusing article on bird watching from wherever you might call home. It’s easy to get into, and the popularity is exploding as we all try to #stayhome right now.
“A Flying Start” by By Sadie Dingfelder
One of the lesser casualties of the coronavirus pandemic is gossip. Many of us are suddenly leading very boring lives: baking banana bread, learning TikTok dances, watching the full contents of Netflix. Even the celebrities are dullsville these days. Sensing our desperation for scuttlebutt, they’ve retreated into their luxurious villas, which they quickly learned not to flaunt.
Now who are we supposed to talk about, judge and live vicariously through?
Seriously, these feathered freaks have no shame. A family of pigeons has been visiting my balcony since March, and their lives are dramatic. It all started with the male, Mr. Whitebutt, seducing Ms. Whitebutt right on my railing. Not long afterward, Whitebutt Jr. showed up — begging for food from his harried parents, even though he could have easily pecked it up himself. Later that very day, I saw Mr. Whitebutt strutting and cooing at a lady pigeon who was most decidedly not Ms. Whitebutt, as this temptress’s butt was dark gray. What. A. Snake. Ms. Whitebutt, if you’re reading this, you deserve better.
That’s a lot of excitement for a 10th-floor balcony, but suburban yards are even better. At my friend’s house in Arlington, Va., I’ve seen a cowbird con a pair of robins into raising her baby, a family of woodpeckers get evicted by starlings, and — way up high — a bald eagle yank a fish from the talons of an osprey. It’s wild out there, and the wilderness is closer than you think.