The city bird feeder is changing the course of evolution

The city bird feeder is changing the course of evolution

As far as I know, no one has ever been killed by an upright bird feeder. Still, when you live on the 25th floor of Manhattan, you can’t hang your Windows out of the window, and you might knock down a pedestrian.
A few winters ago, I sat at my desk and sighed at the fact, gazing at the gray chimney and water tower that stretched to the east river and beyond. I live in my apartment, in a book to write an article about fish: the legendary Asian arowana, a swamp habitat of endangered species, it is said that can be used as pets get up to $300000. After a global hunt for more than three years, I am now locked indoors and buried in a pile of notes. Every time I try to force my thoughts underwater, I find myself staring out the window, eager to see birds in the city sky.
After discovering the swamp, I missed the connection with the wild. Looking for remedial measures, I found a small Maine company called Coveside Conservation Products, which produced a unique “panoramic internal window feeder”. A semi-circular mahogany platform is enclosed with plexiglass, and the feeder is installed in an open window and protrudes inward. The bird’s front view is bold enough to enter. No part of the device is shaking outside, and presumably it can be used in the city.
However, in response to my heated questioning, Jim Turpin, Coveside’s boss, was not a salesman. “Frankly, I’m not overly optimistic about attracting birds to feed the higher-level environment,” he wrote, explaining that most species are looking for food at specific heights. He pointed to the website of Cornell university’s ornithology lab, and asked about luring birds to a 17-story balcony. The answer is that attractive leaves can help, but don’t hold your breath, because I don’t have a balcony and I can hardly see the trees.
In spite of this, I was ordered to filling birdseed bird feeder, and then install it in my window, interrupted sound insulation equipment there, so I found myself working in a siren and portable drill flute. The height of the tallest giant sequoia in the sierra Nevada, 250 feet above the ground – the wind often growls. Although I tried my best to isolate the edge of the shaking wooden feeder, the January air whistled in the apartment, slamming all the doors.

My husband, Jeff, was not thrilled. But as a New Yorker, he wasn’t exactly Mr. Nature. Once, when we are dating, we short hiking in New Jersey, where he purposefully stride into the edge of the woods, on the trees, began to send a convincing shouts, followed by a whirring sound. I was impressed until I realized he was imitating the car alarm. Now, when we went down the thermostat, I told Jeff don’t worry – I just wanted to see if I can attract a feather two pigeons, inevitably followed by countless pigeons, at this point, I have to take the feeders. But no pigeons appeared. Weeks passed. Cold, noisy week. When I started to repaste my building facade, I bought industrial-grade earpieces for work, grinding mortar between bricks.
Then, one morning in March, when I was making coffee in the kitchen, Jeff strode into the office and jumped out again, announcing that he had seen a red glow. I joined him, and we looked around the door until the astonished visitor summoned the courage to return. From the windowsill, the ball of cherry gum protruded from the window, making a curious chirp and checking the room from behind the plexiglas. Once convinced that everything is clear, a freckled breast and a triangular beaked creature jumps into the feeder. I recognized it immediately as the house sparrow.
This is one of a few years ago I found a few birds, reported a few years ago a new bacterial conjunctivitis strains, it in the mid – 90 – s the leap from Washington, d.c., the domesticated fowl around to the species. The outbreak is like pink through kindergarten eyes, making many infected birds almost blind. Millions of people have died – a heavy blow to a species listed as the most successful species.
It wasn’t until 1939 that the house finches were introduced to the east coast of North America, when a brooklyn pet store released a small number of illegal pet stores in California. Over the next 50 years, these brave pioneers built a solid foundation across the continent until they were reunited with their western Cousins on the great plains. Today, finches may inhabit the widest ecological range of any living bird, moving from the deserts of their ancestors to the edge of the subarctic coniferous forests, adapting to the suburbs and cities.


Photo by Dominik Lange on Unsplash

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