Put a bird on it

I think that my husband might have finally won the battle against the bird feeder-raiding squirrels. He bought a new feeder that’s hanging outside my office window now, and the squirrels can’t seem to get near the seed for two reasons - one, it is designed with a mechanism that closes the openings when anything heavier than a bird tries to sit on the perch; and two, this feeder is very popular with the birds. It has four perches, and it’s not at all unusual to see all four of them occupied, with more birds waiting impatiently on the fence. I’m guessing that a bird left a five-star Yelp review, and then all of the other birds thought “what the heck, we might as well try it,” and here we are. I have my own private aviary, and I’m not mad about it. 

*****

In “Put a Bird on It,” one of the best-known Portlandia sketches, a Portland shop owner puts birds on everything she can’t sell, and all of a sudden, the merchandise is flying off the shelves. No one wants to buy that $25 canvas tote bag? Put a bird on it! Handmade coffee mugs gathering dust? Put birds on them! Framed art collection isn’t attracting attention? Hang up some framed bird prints, and you’ll have the trendiest gallery in town! It’s brilliant because it’s so simple and so true. People like birds. 

*****

Did you know that original editions of John James Audubon's The Birds of America sell for anywhere from $1 million to $10 million? This fact came up in a conversation among several characters on a TV show, and I did my own fact-checking research. And astonishingly, it is true. That is Gutenberg Bible money. That is original Shakespeare folio money. And to think that I own this treasure myself. 

Well, I own a miniature paperback replica that cost $15 new and that is probably worth about one dollar now, but the point is that it’s still really beautiful and it’s a treasure to me. I’m glad that someone thought to democratize Audubon and make him available to the 99%. Everyone should have access to beauty. 

Still, full disclosure: If I ever come into possession of one of the few extant copies of the real thing, I’m going to sell. I have bills to pay, you know? 

*****

My sister hates birds. Well it’s really more of a phobia than hatred. She doesn’t mind knowing that birds are flying about and conducting their business in the same world that she lives in, but she doesn’t want them anywhere near her. My sister would never have a bird feeder within 500 feet of her house. But other than my sister and a small percentage of the population who share her anti-bird sentiment, most people love birds (and more as we get older if the jokes about middle-aged people and birdwatching are based on truth, which they are). They are adorably shaped, with beautiful color patterns and markings, and they’re very entertaining to watch. Birds always look neat and tidy, no matter the conditions or circumstances. And of course, they can fly. Compared to birds, humans are infinitely capable, but we do envy any creature that can fly. 

*****

My husband just came in from doing some yard work. “We have a whole bunch of crows out there,” he said, “or maybe they’re ravens.” 

“They’re crows,” I said. “Someone once explained to me how to tell them apart: If you see a black bird and you ask yourself ‘Hmm, is that a crow or a raven?’ then it’s a crow. If you see a black bird and you ask yourself ‘Holy shit, what the fuck is that?’ then it’s a raven.”

*****

If we were to rank the creatures that humans love best, birds would probably come in fourth place, behind dogs, cats, and horses. We like to be with dogs and cats and horses, but except for a few exceptions (parakeets and canaries and budgerigars) we mostly like to just look at birds. And while cats and dogs and horses are all depicted in art, only birds have a whole genre of art dedicated to them. It could be a t-shirt or a tote bag or a handmade coffee cup - all you have to do is put a bird on it, and it’s art.