There is a new variety of safflower seed on the market. It is slightly golden in color, has a thinner shell, and is more nutritious. A friend in Minneapolis has two feeders offering safflower, one for the old seed, the second for the new. Her bird visitors immediately preferred the new seed once they tried it. She told me the preference ratio is about two to one. I want to know why the birds made such an immediate and well-defined change. What did they know and how did they know it. A staffer at our local bird-supply store suggests the thinner shell, taking less effort (and energy) to open might be the reason. Perhaps.

I have written recently about the Rose-breasted Grosbeak that has so far over-wintered in our neighborhood. It is a daily visitor to the seed feeders attached by suction cups to a large glass door in our dining room. On the night of 30 Dec the temp fell to 15 below zero here (western Minneapolis suburb). For the two days before that when the grosbeak came to feed it didn’t look good. We did not think the bird would make it through that frigid night. It was breathing hard and fast, its bill gaping with each breath. We’ve seen it in prolonged shivering. On the 31st we didn’t see it all day long, assumed it was a goner, then discovered it sitting in the feeder after dark. It arrived as we were about to leave the house to attend a New Year’s celebration. We would not have been surprised to find the bird dead when we got home. Nope. There he sat, in the feeder, leaning against the glass, gaping with a steady rhythm. The bird obviously was not going to wherever it has usually roosted for the night. My wife and I discussed what we could or should do. We decided to see what the morning brought. At daylight the grosbeak was exactly where it had been at 1 a.m. Now what? Capturing the bird and taking it to a rehab site was/is a possibility. The bird is very mobile, however, flying well. It allows us to stand almost nosed-to-nose with it as long as glass separates us, but sudden movements by us inside or our appearance on the deck put it to flight. That makes capture difficult. The 0ther problem I have is that the bird is programmed to die. It’s failure to migrate indicates to me a defect that under natural circumstances would have been or should be fatal. Circumstances here are not natural because we feed birds, and this fellow has taken advantage of that. Still, nature has maintained viable populations of Rose-breasted Grosbeaks and all other species by culling from their populations those individuals unfit for survival. If a bird that should migrate to Mexico instead spends the winter in Minnesota, that bird is unfit. It should be allowed to die. If its defect is genetic and could be passed to offspring that only weakens the species. A female that could invest her genes in a healthy and normal male bird wastes those genes if she mates with a defective male. That’s the way the system works. And so, although we already tamper with nature by feeding and putting out water, we’ve decided to do no more. The grosbeak is on its own. What would you do in this situation?

 Someone called today to tell me of a flock of American Robins in the Lake Hiawatha neighborhood.Is it unusual to see robins here in winter? Nope. Robins will skip their fall migration. Availability of food probably is the determining factor. Last winter, a flock of robins could be seen here and there in the Wayzata area.The one reliable place to look for them was the Wayzata bait shop, east of town. Every morning the bait guys would clean the dead minnows from their holding tanks, tossing them into the snow near the building.Robins came routinely to eat the fish. Ornithological literature says that robins eat fish, along with snakes and shrews, when their usual diet of invertebrates and fruit is not readily available. One of the fishy robins is pictured here.

 We’ve had a Rose-breasted Grosbeak at our feeders for the past month. It was here again this morning, Dec. 1. This is a late appearance for this species. It’s sort of tattered looking, an incomplete molt probably. It quietly sits on the feeder edge or on our watering pan, fluffed up in the cold. Obviously, it hasn’t been moved yet to hit the migration trail. By now it should be in deep southern Mexico or northern South America. Bob Janssen’s Minnesota birding bible (Birds of Minnesota, UM Press 1987), listing distribution and migration information, shows three dates in November when this species has been reported in the southern half of the state. There are two December dates, the 2nd and the 17th. Of course, the book is 20 years old and other reports might exist, but our bird, for whatever reason, is beginning to take a run at the record book. Two more days and second place is his alone.

  I have purchased what I long considered a little-old-lady bird feeder. It’s plastic, with a tiny tray for seeds, one of those attach to your window with suction cups. I prefer large feeders that fit weekly attention. The new feeder is sort of cute, and I can’t stand cute except in grandchildren. But, I now find myself standing six inches from feeding chickadees. I can almost press my nose against the glass. Amazing! We attached the feeder to the glass of a patio door. We already had birds coming to a thistle-seed feeder that hangs from the soffit there. That obviously was an aid to attendance. Finches and chickadees have been regular visitors. The new feeder has added nuthatches, a Downy Woodpecker, and two migrant Rose-breasted Grosbeaks late in leaving town. This little plastic gizmo has become the first place we check for birds. Cost fourteen bucks and worth every penny. Â

 The brains of some birds shrink in the winter to lighten the bird’s body mass. And remembering where they cached food for the winter helps chickadees produce new brain neurons. You don’t hear much birdsong in the fall. This is non-breeding season, so courtship or territorial song is unnecessary. So unnecessary, in fact, that in certain species, Song Sparrows for example, the part of the brain used for song shrinks. This makes song impossible while reducing the weight the bird must carry. Wild chickadees, active in fall storing food for winter, produce three times as many new brain neurons as captive chickadees, which need not remember where those sunflower seeds were hidden. Aging human brains are supposed to benefit from challenging use. The same appears to apply to backyard birds. This information comes from reports published by the American Association for the Advancement of Science. The photo is of a Black-capped Chickadee.

 For a superb and concise discussion of 10 hummingbird myths (misunderstandings), visit the Web site of Hilton Pond Center for Piedmont Natural History – http://www.hiltonpond.org/ThisWeek080715.html. This is always an interesting site, updated weekly. The photos here were taken recently near Lutsen, on the North Shore. An adult male Ruby-throated Hummingbird, defending his feeding territory, attacked a juvenile hummingbird of the same species. That bird was injured in the attack, and possibly died.Â