Backyard Bird-Haven Wildlife Menagerie
By Stephany Spencer-LeBaron

Backyard Bird-Haven Wildlife Menagerie
By Stephany Spencer-LeBaron

For many years, I worked hard
To attract beautiful birds to my back yard.
Feeding and watching them was healthy fun.
By 2004, a Birder I’d become,
Expanding my bird-feeders 
To sixty-one.

My Birding Hobby couldn’t be sweeter…
Till I saw a squirrel fly overhead 
From my Redwood tree
To land in a feeder! 
Realizing it was a contest
Between these mammals and me, 
I moved the squirrel bafflers up a notch; 
The pole feeders away from the tree. 
Then took a sip of Scotch 
While I sat again to watch 
The wonders Birding brought … 
And thought:
Birdwatching is a wonderful thing to do! 
Every day I see fascinating things, 
Plus a new bird or two. 
Then I contemplated 
My Nature Resort so nice … 
Till I began to tally the price:
 
Sixty-one feeders dropping costly seed 
That grew in my lawn I had to weed— 
Plus mucho moths came in the feed. 
To pay me for my magnanimous deed
They homesteaded in my house.
Then along came a mouse; 
And skunks that dug holes in my lawn 
Hunting for grubs and bugs bird feeders spawn. 

Later, while sitting in reverie, 
Thinking a Birder was a neat thing to be, 
I noted my bird-feeding activity
Created unforeseen headaches for me,
Including a monumental food chain, 
Attracting undesirables I disdain,
Like opossums, skunks, and mice; 
Moths, ticks, fleas, and lice. 

And raccoons that dirtied my birdbaths 
While wetting their food; 
Then waddled away with their little brood, 
Looking back at me with rude laughs— 
Goons in black-and-white coons’ masks.

At long last, I began to ask: 
Can my Ornithology hobby last? 
It’s more trouble than it’s worth!
It’s spawned a wildlife menagerie
In my little corner of the Earth.
One species attracts another; 
Then along comes its brother.
Visiting my Real Estate regularly
Were bobcats, crickets, coyotes, and more—
Everything but a wild-boar turf war 
And the California Condor! 

What’s more, these creatures consumed
My organic food I’d grown to store!
Then I began to deplore Ornithology … 
How it took valuable time and energy
I needed to create art, music, and poetry.

So I ditched the birding stations …
All except one: 
A Hummingbird feeder I kept for fun.
That feeder alone is a big chore—
The fillings, cleanings, 
Keeping syrup in store
That attracts ants, gnats, bees, and more.

Still, it satisfies a need to nurture
Deep in my core.
Except for that exception, 
I’m not a backyard-birder anymore.
Without mincing words,
I’ve found birding’s not for me…
It’s for the birds—
Birding is for the birds!

My Bird-Haven Wildlife Menagerie
Part Two

My Bird-Haven Wildlife Menagerie
Part Two
By Stephany Spencer-LeBaron

I haven’t Ornithology apparatus anymore—
Gave it to Pat Avery to entirely ensure 
I don’t restore Bird feeders anymore
To invite birds in migration 
To my Bird-Haven Station
That attracted wildlife I deplore.

Yet I miss anomalies in my trees, 
Like Storks I saw soar in the breeze 
Then alight in my Pine Trees to rest, 
In flight to Castaic Lake to nest;
Four miles away, as the bird flies.

If only my skies could be lit once more
With butterflies and bug-eating birds galore;
 As well as seed-eating varieties I adore. 

‘Twould be nice, long as I wouldn’t mind a bit
The scavengers that come along with it,
Like rats, raccoons, skunks, and lice,
Lyme ticks, fleas, moths, and mice;
Plus the time, problems, and price of it!

But how I miss the beautiful Fowl,
Bluebirds, Blue Jays; the Night Owl.
And Hawks that scared territorial birds away
That wouldn’t allow other birds to stay.

Still, nectar and insect-eating birds, 
Like the Titmouse, Hummingbird, and Wren, 
Nest near my home now and then. 
And Blackbirds, Starlings, and Crows, 
And birds nobody knows are back again. 

During Spring and Fall migrations, 
They still stop at my bird stations 
To bathe in birdbaths I fill. 

And Roadrunners and Grouse
 Scratch for food near my house on the hill; 
While English Sparrows on my windowsill 
Thrill me with their melodious trill!

Still I miss the Blue Lazulians, 
Colorful Cardinals and White Doves. 
These loves visit only if their food’s around. 

I don’t miss Mourning Doves.
They eat from feeder and ground, 
Constantly cooing their mournful sound,
While eating costly seed put around 
For Goldfinches and wild Parakeets found.

Neither do I miss Pigeons swooping down, 
Devouring black thistle seed by the pound;
While shooing away birds I wanted to stay!

In Raven-Haven days, 
I tried hard to attract 
Orange and black Grosbeaks.
They’d come back each September
When I’d remember to spread their feed— 
Safflower and black sunflower seed. 

Then I’d take heart at the song of a Lark, 
And place fruit for the Oriole, 
Tallow for Wood Peckers,
And gravel for birds on the wing.

And how I loved hearing House Finch sing!
And watching birds return each Spring.
And Seagulls sailing overhead,
Buzzards looking for something dead;
And Mockingbirds all day long 
Mocking other birds’ words and song.

Every bird and its brother 
Toured my Blue Haven, at one time or another, 
During those years I ran my Way Station for Birds;
Especially during seasonal migrations, 
When they flew in herds to my Bird Stations.

But I most remember how I worked hard 
To build my beautiful Bird-haven yard,
Only to get more than I bargained for—
A Wildlife Menagerie at my door!

I remember too, how fast the hours flew, 
Like birds on the wing and Spring.
But I never tired of watching birds take flight 
Against the sunset’s panoramic light;
While deciphering which bird I heard sing.

And each dawn I’d carry on, 
Binoculars and Video Cam in hand,
 Recording my wildlife menagerie,
Magnificent and grand … 

Till reality took hold, broke the mold, 
And made me sane again:
I’d become a bird-monger, 
But not younger nor stronger.
So I was haunted.
I could have anything I wanted. 
Not everything! 

Worse, survival and duties must come first; 
Plus Creative Arts like writing verse. 
So pardon me now if I’m terse, 
When I opine in post-parting words: 
My Bird-haven was for the birds.
I found birding is for the birds!

Beulah Birdhead’s Bird-Haven

“Birds of a feather flock together.
 So do pigs and swine.
Rats and mice will have their choice.
 So please let me have mine.”

Beulah Birdhead’s Bird-Haven
By Beulah Birdhead/AKA: Stephany Spencer-LeBaron,
Feather sister of Talulah Birdhead
 (No relation to Actress Talulah Bankhead)


Tootle-a-toot! 
Talulah Birdhead here to say 
Beulah Birdhead’s Bird-Haven 
Was a beautiful site/sight to see …
Till she saw a squirrel fly overhead 
From a Redwood tree 
And land in a bird-feeder! 

Baffled by its audacity,
Beulah moved the squirrel bafflers 
Up a notch,
The pole feeders to a different spot;
Then took a sip of Scotch 
And sat again to watch 
The wonders Ornithology brought …
And thought: 

“Birdwatching’s a wonderful hobby! 
Whooood’ve thought
 I’d add this to my Do-do-List? 
Whooooo but me?”

Then she perched in a tree, 
To view her Nature Resort lovely to see … 
Till she tallied up the price …
Retrospectively:

Sixty-four feeders and expensive seed 
Taking root in her lawn she had to weed. 
Plus mucho moths came in the feed, 
Creating need to keep glue traps
Around her house. 

Then along came a mouse. 
And skunks that dug holes in her lawn, 
Scavenging for roots, bugs, and grubs 
Bird-feeders spawn.

Later, as she sat in reverie, 
Thinking a Birder was a neat thing to be,
She noted it attracted the unsavory,
Like opossums, squirrels, and mice;
Moths, ticks, fleas, and lice.

And raccoons that dirtied the birdbaths 
While wetting their food; 
Then waddled away with their brood 
Looking back like goons with irksome laughs 
In black-and-white coons’ masks.

At last, ex post facto, Birdhead asked, 
Is my Bird Hobby too troublesome to last?
 With it has come a wildlife menagerie 
Of coyotes, crickets, bobcats, and more;
Plus birds and animals 
Gobbling garden food grown to store.

Thus Beautiful Beulah began to deplore 
The time, money, and work it took.
At last, in a Birding uproar, 
“Birdie” decided to ditch her feeders … 
All sixty-four!
Then kept a Hummer feeder
To even the score. 

That feeder alone’s a big chore—
The frequent fillings, cleanings; 
Keeping syrup in store.
 But it was fun … 
Satisfied her need to nurture, 
Having just that one. 

She still has Birding apparatus in store.
Should she want to feed the birds once more,
She could reinstall her feeders galore 
To watch birds in migration 
Stop at her Bird Station.

And enjoy a Ravens’ Haven at her door. 
Plus anomalies in her hills once more– 
Like cranes she saw soar from her Stone Pine 
Where they’d landed in flight to rest 
On their way to Castaic Lake to nest; 
Only 4 miles away, as the bird flies. 

Then her skies, 
Still lit with butterflies 
And bug-eating birds we adore, 
Would host seed-eating birds, like before.

‘Twould be nice … 
Long as she wouldn’t mind a bit
Things that come along with it, 
Like squirrels, lice, and Lyme ticks;
Plus the full-fledged expense 
And chore of it.

But she does miss the beautiful fowl,
Bluebirds, Blue Jays; the Night Owl. 
Though she’ll admit she was always glad 
When Chicken Hawks scared
The House Sparrows away—
They wouldn’t allow other birds to stay. 

She feels blest insect-eating birds 
Like the tiny Tit Mouse and Wren 
Still nest in her Bird-Haven Glen.
And Blackbirds, Starlings, and Crows, 
And birds nobody knows are back again.
They come, if only to bathe and drink 
From her big birdbath sink 
She regularly cleans and fills. 

Plus there are Road Runners and Grouse 
Scratching near her Ranch-style house.
And English Sparrows on her windowsills 
Thrill her with their melodious trills.

 Yet, how she misses the Blue Lazulians, 
Colorful Cardinals, and White Doves. 
These loves visit only
If their favorite seed’s around. 

What she doesn’t miss are Mourning Doves.
 They eat from feeder and ground, 
Constantly cooing their mournful sound
While eating the costly thistle seed 
Beulah Birdhead spread around 
For Goldfinches and wild Parakeets found. 

Nor does she miss Pigeons 
That swooped down, 
Devouring costly seed by the pound,
While shooing away 
Beautiful birds she wanted to stay! 

Back in Bird-Haven days, 
Beulah Birdhead worked hard to attract 
The orange and black Grosbeak. 
So kept feeders filled with their favorite feed, 
Safflower and black sunflower seed. 

She always took heart 
At the song of a Lark; 
Then placed food for the Swallow,
Tallow for the Wood Peckers, 
And gravel for birds on the wing.

How she loved hearing House Finch sing, 
Watching birds come back each spring, 
Seagulls sailing overhead,
And Mockingbirds all day long 
Mocking other birds’ words and song. 

Every bird and its brother 
Visited Beulah’s Bird-Haven
At one time or another, 
During those years she ran 
Her Way-Station for Birds; 
Especially during migrational seasons, 
April and September. 

But she’ll most remember 
How she worked so hard 
To build her beautiful Bird-Sanctuary yard, 
Only to get more than she bargained for —
A Wildlife Menagerie at her door. 

She remembers too, 
How fast the hours flew,
As did the birds on the wing … 
And spring. 

Yet, she never tired of studying
Fowls in the flowers, 
Watching winged bodies take flight 
Against the sunset’s panoramic light, 
And naming each bird she heard sing. 

Each dawn, she’d carry on the same, 
Binoculars and Video Cam in hand.
‘Twas a grand game … 
Till reality took hold, 
Broke the mold, 
And made her sane again. 

It told her she wasn’t
Getting younger nor stronger; 
Neither the days fuller nor longer. 
So Ms. Birdhead was haunted:
She could have anything she wanted …
Not everything!

Eventually she admitted the worst:
Creative Arts like Music and Verse, 
Reading and upkeep must come first.
Thus, Beulah’s Bird Hobby burst!
 
Afterwards, Beulah said in terse words:
 My Bird-Haven was for the birds …
 Birding is for the birds!
(Double Entendre intended)