Both my Great-Aunt Maude and my mom fed birds. They might have exchanged bird-feeding tips. Both used the same brand of food — stale baked goods.
Crumbs were spread on crude wooden platforms mostly ignored by all birds except house sparrows, grateful little brown cheepers.
This was long before bird feeding became the hobby or pastime or obsession it currently is. What my mother and aunt did was simply Something Nice for the Birds.
Bird-feeding, like technical gadgetry, has advanced far beyond that, beyond the point of need.
Understand, please, as I sit on our deck poking this out on my iPad — out here so I can commune with the birds — I can see seven bird feeders in our yard or on the deck with me.
The sunflower-seed dispenser in front of me is empty. That means a trip to the garage where the seed is stored in hopes of keeping meal worm moths from infiltrating the house. Been there, done that.
The jelly put out for the orioles — they seem to have moved on — is its usual runny mess. It does as well with hot weather as I do. The orange half colorfully impaled on a nail beside the purple jelly juice has dried to leather. Another sun issue.
If we put these items in the shade we wouldn't be able to see them. And then, what's the point?