How a Forgotten Feeder Started a Twelve-Year Streak

A tube feeder, bird seed, no card, no flowers, no plan. I tied an old feeder to the front porch to make something happen. My 4 and 6-year-old boys were already cheering with cereal boxes like they won some victory. Sunday morning, total chaos.

In less than twenty minutes, a male cardinal, red and ridiculous, landed as if he owned the place. The kids yelled. I laughed, and we all forgot there was supposed to be a ‘real’ gift.

It was easy, and that’s probably why it stuck. Naturally, we did it again the next year. In the following years, we did minor improvements: better seeds, a cleaner perch, a less expensive pair of binoculars for the kids, and so forth.

The ritual stayed pretty simple and constant. The cardinal, the blue jay who took an entire morning in 2018, and the occasional return of the cardinal. By 2019, my eldest son was starting to draw birds. The little things made it feel real.

Nobody thought that this would last for so long. Year after year, we continued our little messy thing on Mother’s Day, and now, twelve years later, the feeder is still there, and we still act like it’s the best surprise, even though nobody meant for this to become a tradition.

What We Actually Do Every Mother’s Day Morning

I can hear the gentle sound of the seed tubs touching each other, that’s the kids’ doing from last night. I go outside with a fresh cup of coffee and watch the sunrise from the back porch.

Every bird gets a scoreboard that is placed next to the rail. Each time someone spots a cardinal, chickadee, goldfinch, or (every once in a while) downy woodpecker, they write a number next to the corresponding name. The first person to see a cardinal gets bragging rights!

Breakfast is eaten on our warped patio table, or if it is nicer out, we will do breakfast on the picnic blanket. Pancakes and toast are eaten, and plates are handed across while trying to see the tops of the trees. No one has their phones out during counting as we all know the rules.

Depending on how many animals there are and my toddler’s tantrums, it can take up to 20 to 40 minutes to finish the tally. We joke and argue about whether we saw a female cardinal. Then we erase the board before church. It all ends, like it’s been since 2014, just before noon, and calm and purposeful.

Why Bird-Watching Turned Out to Be the Perfect Mom Gift

I wanted to have a relaxed sort of vibe where I did not have to have any sort of kitchen duty. I thought bird watching would be ideal since I get to sip on my coffee while everyone else does the spotting.

My children transitioned from swiping apps on their devices to actually pointing at things outside. No one had to be bribed with pancakes for a bird sighting. My seven-year-old shouted from the porch, “red-winged blackbird!” and I felt so proud.

We created an impulse as an all-year-round tradition. We yell cardinals in January and find it funny if a grackle steals a piece of food. That common language stayed the same.

It asked very little of me. No reservations. No drooping tulips. No last-minute grocery trips. The real gift was the time spent together and watching a goldfinch arrive at the feeder.

Gear That Made the Tradition Way More Fun Over the Years

During the first year of feeding birds, I received a bag of birdseed and a plastic feeder. The experience was mediocre because no finches ever showed up, but I was soon overrun by sparrows, squirrels and other critters looking to eat.

A platform feeder worked. With seeds on a flat tray, we drew in ground-feeding birds like doves and juncos. The kids could point and whisper as those birds came close. Finally, we got to see bird behaviors that we missed from the tube feeder that has no perching space.

Since the goldfinches were ignoring all my offerings, I hung a thistle (nyjer) sock. The little beaks love it. We then started timing female versus male plumage in spring. That one addition taught us to match seed type with species.

We put up a suet cage after observing downy and pileated woodpeckers on several of our walks. When the woodpeckers started visiting, the kids now had something exciting and loud to watch. Watching the woodpeckers became the highlight of each Sunday morning.

An excellent set of 8×42 binoculars altered how we watched whatever it was we were watching. It brought to our attention all sorts of tiny details and little features we had never before realized were important. I left Sibley’s Eastern field guide on the porch table to help us ID birds together, and now that book has settled into our routine like some kind of silent coach.

What My Kids Get Out of It (That Has Nothing to Do with Birds)

My older son will see a red-tailed hawk on the highway and call it one of the hawk “neighbors”. From the back seat, he will say “Red-tail”, and I will not even need to tell him to do that. That habit shows he’s starting to become more aware of the things around him.

My brother has started drawing birds in his notebook. He draws little beaks and little tails, then writes the date and location where he saw the bird. He has a habit of drawing, which has morphed into a strong attention span used for homework and piano practice.

They learned some patience. You cannot rush a bird. Also, they learned some self-control by being quiet. Both were quiet for a two-hour trip last summer so they could see a kingfisher dive three times in a row. After that afternoon, they argued less and more.

Even if they don’t proudly refer to themselves as “birders,” what they do could be described that way. Change lies in the minutiae; an inquiry into the state of a neighbor’s broken fence, a toy that has been left outside, or an inquiry into someone’s day. These behaviors are lasting.