Um, they still try to kill me when they have babies. Right now they are all happy singing and mating.

I like to get some lard melt it and empty old dried fruit, cereals, cornmeal, peanutbutter, some flower and even some frozen chunks of fruit like mango pieces. I put the frozen fruit in last to help it all cool. Then I pour it into wax-paper lined sheet pans and chill to make suet blocks. This year I splurged and got a feeder for finches. Haven't seen a one on it. It's got about 18 opening with little perches the fan out like little cuphooks. I also got a block of dried corn and seeds on a chain with a spring. Thought it would be great fun to watch the squirrels bounce. The finches went for that, the squirrels here are too fat to work that hard and the snooty finch feeder is obviously yard art! gotta love the little guys. Had a small flock of robins here this evening. One see an occasional mockingbird. yes, there are nandina and holly berries. Guess mine are waiting for tomato time too. c

I've been fortunate enough to have a pair of mockingbirds in my backyard year around for several years. They are very protective of their territory, especially to other mockingbirds. Every year, they raise two or three offspring, but run them off soon after they fledge. The only other birds they seem to tolerate are a pair of white wing doves that nest in a youpon holly tree. Maybe because the doves don't compete for the same food source. They go nuts in the spring when the flocks of Cedar Waxwings come through and strip off the remaining winter youpon holly berries, which is the mockingbirds main food source in winter. They are overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Waxwings, but just complain loudly. The most interesting thing is they mate for life, but go through a re-bonding ritual every spring. They face each other on the ground about 2 feet apart, and the male will hop forward and place a youpon berry on the ground, then hop back. The female then hops forward, picks up the berry and hops back. They do this several times a day until they finally go off and build a new nest and lay eggs.

Many birds are amazing mimics; I remember several Starlings back in the 1970s that used to sit on a wire outside my apartment window in Louisville and perfectly mimic the crashing, squeaking sounds of the cars that bounced across the pot-hole filled parking lot. Many other birds "speak" that are generally not noticed. Our male Pekin duck, "Pillow," talked so clearly one of my kids' playmates ran home and told her mom my duck was possessed. Our geese also spoke our names clearly and mimicked the dogs barking so perfectly I had to look at the dogs to make sure. My hand-raised canary used to call me "Mom" as did most of my hand-raised baby parrots and finches. The adult birds-parrots, canaries, finches alike-called me "Rachel" but only if they needed something. I tried to make sure all feeders and sippers were full to make sure nobody had to call my name for assistance. I no longer raise exotic birds but even now if a wild bird feeder is low, birds tap on the window, yell against the glass to make it amplify through the house, come to my car window to tell me about it, or even follow me up the mnt behind the house chirping in my face. But everything communicates even if it can't "talk"; our frog splashes the side of the tank-HARD, when he wants another earthworm. The snake comes out and follows us up and down the side of the tank when he wants mice or his tank sprayed down. The mule stands in the corner by the gate and brays when he wants me to tether him out to graze. Whistle, the retired racking horse, also does so, but whinnies.