When I moved into
the house I’m living in now (about 13 years ago), one of the first things I did
was to set up a couple of birdfeeders. I’d never been able to do this in the
previous places I lived, either because I had outdoor cats—and it always seemed
kind of cruel for me to put out food for the birds, knowing that some of them
were going to get attacked when they came to eat—or because I was living in an
apartment with no good place to put a feeder.
As a Pagan, I
look at feeding the birds (and the other critters who are attracted to the
seeds that spill onto the ground underneath) not just as a fun thing to do, but
as a part of my spiritual practice. Allow me to explain.
Witches and
Pagans follow a nature-based religion, for the most part. For me, the act of
feeding the birds is a way of helping to sustain the creatures that live
nearby, as well as adding beauty to my daily life. Instead of just observing
the occasional passing flock, I become a part of their life cycle, and they
become a part of mine.
Where I live in
upstate New York, the winters can be brutal. Last night it was well below zero.
There is very little growing that the birds and other animals can eat—a few
berries left on bushes, the old apples still hanging from my trees, and
whatever else they can scavenge. Obviously, the birds that hang around here in
the winter are designed to be able to survive in this environment, but that
doesn’t mean it is easy.
So I do my best
to help out. It can get expensive (I attract enough birds that I can easily go
through a ten dollar bag of birdseed in under a week), so I only do it from the
end of fall to the beginning of spring, when they need it the most. And, of
course, it isn’t always fun, having to go out into the cold and dig a path
through the snow to get to the feeders to refill them. But I am rewarded with
the cheery sight of a bright red cardinal when everything else outside in black
and white or brown, and when I eat my breakfast, I can look out the window and
watch the birds eating theirs too.
I get lots of
other incidental visitors as well. I’ve seen deer (although more often just
their tracks, since they tend to come in the middle of the night), rabbits, chipmunks,
and of course, squirrels. Earlier in the season, I even had a grouse showing up
on a regular basis. (A kind of wild game bird that looks kind of like a big
chicken.)
I may be feeding
the birds and their friends, but they are feeding me in return; feeding my
spirit, filling my eyes with beauty and my heart with joy, and reinforcing my
connection with the natural world. This seems to me to be an awfully good
return on the investment of a few bags of birdseed.
Not everyone can
feed the birds, of course, but you don’t have to do it on a regular basis to
make it a part of your own spiritual practice. If you live in an apartment,
they make feeders that attach to the outside of a window, or you can hang a
small feeder outside if there is space—even on a fire escape. Or go to a local
park and feed the birds there, if it is legal wherever you live. If you have a
house, try putting up one feeder to start, or even a simple bird treat made
from a pine cone rolled in peanut butter or suet, and then rolled in seeds. You
can hang this kind of homemade feeder from a small branch or a stick pushed
into the ground. Another easy-to-make disposable bird treat is an apple rolled
in peanut butter, which can be hung from a string that is pushed through the
middle of the apple. If you don’t want to spend money on birdseed, try just
tossing stale bread or over-ripe fruit out where the birds can get it.
There are many
ways for us to integrate the natural world into our busy lives, but for me,
feeding the birds is a simple and satisfying way to keep my promise to the
Goddess to treat Her creatures well and make them a part of my everyday life.
Do you feed the
birds?
