By Nancy Wiersma

One day last week, while I was enjoying a show on a local public channel, I heard someone tapping on the bay window in my dining room. This sounded very strange, so I got up from my easy chair. Quickly, I made my way to the window, peeking carefully through the curtain, I expected to find a person, not a bird: a large bird, a yellow-shafted Northern flicker to be exact. It seemed to be perched/clinging onto the trim, upper top most side, of the window frame. What was this silly bird up to I wondered? This ought to be good, I thought.

God’s nature is always amazing and entertaining. I stood there watching: The bird just sat there, clinging, thinking and then it started tapping once again. And then it looked as if it were trying to peer into the window. And then some more tapping and then some more peering. It turned its head from side to side, squinting, peering, trying hard to look inside. By now, the bird had more of a glare in its eyes. Like it was getting impatient.  Just what was this tapping bird’s problem, I wondered?

It sat there as if it was waiting for someone to what? Answer the window? Well, as a matter of fact, the dining room window overlooked the birdfeeders. It was wanting what? Dah, the birdfeeders were empty, the suet was gone, the cracked corn and black oil sunflower seeds empty — all gone. Was this bird trying to tell me the feeders were empty? Clinging there, trying to tell me it was hungry, come fill the feeders. Well, maybe.

Tap, tap, tap, look, look, look, tap, tap, tap, glare, glare, glare. What is taking her so long, come to the window, come fill these blasted feeders and be quick about it. Could it be thinking this?

What conclusion would you have come to? So I put on a jacket and, with suet, cracked corn and black oil sunflower seeds in hand, to the feeders I went. The yellow-shafted flicker flew off the window, landing on the side of the old oak tree. But, it did not fly off. It just clung there, onto the side of the oak tree, watching me.

It was creepy.

After filling all the feeders, I went back inside and made my way to the window and looked out as the bird dropped from the tree and flew over to the feeders and began to pig out on suet. Now just who thinks birds and animals are without feelings and reason?

I don’t know, you tell me.