ContraindiKateNew Friend arrived at my door wearing a mask, her glasses fogged from the cold, carrying a giant armful of branches. You need birds, she told me, and proceeded to the balcony, where she planted the branches in an empty pot.
She hung a makeshift bird feeder (the lid of a plastic container) off the branches and secured it with twine and twist ties. She dropped a handful of crushed nuts on the feeder.
Make sure you fill it up again every day, she told me, handing me a bag of seeds. They are very hungry.
She was not wrong. An army of five little birds has been arriving every morning. They clean the place out, tilting the feeder to get the last crumbs off. If I fill it up again, they’ll be back in an hour to lick the plate clean.
It does my soul good, to be this close to signs of life again. Friend has brought the forest closer to me and I can feel it deep in my belly, pulling me back into the land of the living.
Broadfork
Mike Rogers
The Bee Guy
Richard Rollinson
